fi* 


THE 
DAYSMAN 


Cochrane  Publishing  Company 

Tribune  Building 

New  York 

1909 


Copyright,  1909,  by 
COCHRANE  PUBLISHING  Co. 


SRLF 
URL 


TO 

MY  MOTHER 

THIS   BOOK  IS   AFFECTIONATELY  DEDICATED 

AS  A  TOKEN   OF  MY 

APPRECIATION   OF    HER    NOBLE   QUALITIES   OF    HEART 
AND   MY  ESTEEM   FOR   HER   MENTAL  GIFTS. 


THE  DAYSMAN 


PART  I. 


"The  sun  set  but  set  not  his  hope: 
Stars  rose;  his  faith  was  earlier  up; 
Fixed  on  the  enormous  galaxy, 
Deeper  and  older  seemed  his  eye : 
And  matched  his  sufferance  sublime, 
The  taciturnity  of  time. 
He  spoke,  and  words  more  soft  than  rain 
Brought  the  Age  of  Gold  again; 
His  action  won  such  reverence  sweet, 
As  hid  all  measure  of  the  feat." 

— Ralph  Waldo  Emerson. 


THE   DAYSMAN 


CHAPTER  I. 

"A  wind  that  might  have  swept  the  fields  of  mortality  for  a 
thousand  centuries." — De  Quincey. 


T  was  a  wild  night. 

In  a  country  whose  currents  of  air  are 
prone  to  drowse  through  summer  noons 
and  to  awake  in  the  gentle  insouciance 
of  an  evening  breeze — the  wind  which 
had  begun  to  blow. 

For  days  a  storm  had  been  mustering 
its  forces.  White  clouds  formed  some- 
where below  the  visible  horizon  and  driven  across  the 
unbroken  blue  of  a  clear  sky  had  rolled  up  in  vast  dark 
phalanxes  toward  the  West,  where  an  evening  sun. 
burning  itself  out  in  fiery  splendors  of  copper  and  gold, 
had  left  the  ashen  heavens  glowering  and  overcast. 

And  then  suddenly — out  of  a  deep  silence — had  come 
the  unaccustomed  sound  of  rising  wind.  It  blew  across 
the  valley  in  great  gusty  sighs;  it  howled  up  the  can- 
yon and  moaned  about  the  shack  wherein  his  father  lay 
dying.  Portentious,  vaguely  suggestive  of  impending 

9 


10  THE  DAYSMAN 

evil,  it  seemed  a  weird  half -human  cry — wild  with  the 
threat  of  coming  rain  which  would  follow  in  its  wake. 

Death  was  inevitable  the  doctor  had  said — "death 
before  morning" — and  above  the  low  sobbing  of  the 
wind  a  noise  of  distant  hammering  was  borne  across 
the  darkness — distinct,  almost  uncanny — a  haunting 
insistance  of  sound  that  accompanied  in  grim  staccato 
the  short  sharp  breathing  of  the  sick  man. 

From  the  shop  a  few  yards  away  where  carpenters 
were  at  work  upon  a  rude  temporary  coffin,  a  subdued 
murmer  of  voices  could  be  heard  in  those  brief  mo- 
ments of  silence  that  intervened  between  the  hideous 
monotony  of  driving  nails,  the  dull  thud  of  a  dropped 
hammer  or  the  sharp  grating  of  a  saw. 

Late  as  it  was  the  whole  camp  was  astir.  In  the 
store,  where  each  evening  found  a  crowd  of  eager  shop- 
pers bent  upon  supplying  necessities  or  yielding  to  the 
alluring  temptations  of  luxury,  the  rush  hour  was  long 
since  over.  Bacon  and  frijoles  no  longer  commanded 
the  attention — pate  de  foie  gras  and  cut  glass  tumblers 
had  ceased  to  entice  the  imagination  and  still  groups 
of  men  lingered  near  the  door  discussing  the  probable 
chances  of  rain  before  daybreak,  while  knots  of  women 
gathered  about  the  counters  engaging  in  low-toned  con- 
versations or  affecting  deep  deliberation  over  petty  pur- 
chases in  order  to  delay  the  moment  of  going.  Clearly 
the  public  mind  was  absorbed  in  something  more  vital 
than  surface  trivialities. 

Queen  Elizabeth  was  one  of  those  embryo  towns 
characteristic  of  the  late  eighties  in  the  Territory — for 
the  mine  had  yet  to  impress  its  rich  existence  upon  the 


THE  DAYSMAN  11 

Eastern  world.  Climbing  a  rugged  slope  in  desultory 
fashion  the  settlement  seemed  to  have  wrested  but  a 
precarious  footing  from  the  mountain  to  whose  side  it 
clung,  an  impression  of  insecurity  not  out  of  harmony 
with  that  air  of  tentative  prosperity  which  marked  the 
first  stages  of  its  early  development.  Substantial 
wagon  roads  hewn  and  blasted  out  of  the  mighty  hill 
wound  tortuously  from  its  lofty  shaft-house,  past  the 
store  and  offices  of  the  company,  down,  ever  down,  to 
the  bed  of  a  canyon  and  out  into  the  valley  beyond. 
These  roads  constituted  the  main  thoroughfares  and 
from  them  countless  narrow  paths  and  trails  diverged 
in  many  directions,  seaming  steep  precipices  and  frown- 
ing cliffs  and  leading  to  those  safe  lodges  where  tiny 
cabins  were  perched  like  aeries  on  the  solid  rock. 

The  property  had  slipped  through  the  fingers  of 
many  men,  some  of  whom  had  let  it  go  lightly,  others 
with  a  vague  reluctance,  an  undefined  regret;  still  oth- 
ers with  that  sharp  relief  that  follows  an  uneasy  fear 
cf  loss,  and  all  the  while  Nature,  strangely  elusive  in 
her  consciousness  of  latent  power,  had  held  her  rich 
treasure  in  reserve,  demanding  surer  hope  and  larger 
faith  than  she  had  yet  found  in  this  land  beyond  the 
Great  Divide. 

For  the  Territory  after  passing  from  the  feverish 
dream  of  a  golden  age  into  the  wilder  delirium  of  a 
great  silver  epoch  had  come  to  that  period  of  transition 
which  was  to  separate  the  self-reliant  poise  of  its  sane 
virility  from  the  lusty  over-confidence  of  its  spectacular 
youth.  The  curtain  had  been  wrung  down  upon  a  bril- 
liant drama  of  splendid  adolescence  wherein  the  play 


12  THE  DAYSMAN 

of  primitive  passions  had  struck  many  a  tragic  note. 
To  those  dazzling  visions  of  easily  won  fortune  some 
looked  back  with  a  jaundiced  eye,  but  few  would  have 
exchanged  the  lime-light  glare  for  the  more  wholesome 
dawn  of  a  better  day. 

It  was  in  this  brief  pause,  at  the  end  of  the  old  era, 
that  a  great  mine  was  born.  Tracing  its  origin  to  a 
company,  owing  its  achievement  to  a  man,  destined 
later  to  startle  the  world  with  its  wealth,  the  Queen 
Elizabeth  came  into  existence  unheralded  even  in  its 
own  country,  scarcely  stirring  to  passing  interest  a 
generation  whose  imagination  overstimulated  by  the 
rich  surface  leads  of  a  score  of  years,  had  not  the 
power  to  conceive  of  a  deeper  treasure  trove.  And  the 
man  who  had  believed  in  her  dormant  possibilities 
while  as  yet  mesquite  and  cactus  grew  undisturbed 
upon  the  mountain  side,  the  man  in  whose  brain  her 
life  had  germinated  with  the  inception  of  the  great 
idea,  the  one  man,  possibly,  of  the  moment,  who  com- 
prehending her  nascent  capacity,  had  begun  to  dream 
of  realizing  her  future  happened  to  be  dying  on  a 
stormy  night  in  the  summer  of  eighty-eight. 

Up  the  street,  beyond  the  store,  in  a  rough  cabin 
where  such  small  comforts  as  the  camp  afforded  had 
been  hastily  brought  together,  John  Treverin  waited. 

Alone,  save  for  the  presence  of  that  still  form  upon 
the  bed,  with  every  sense  alert  for  the  last  tones  of  his 
father's  voice,  he  watched,  while  the  slow  minutes 
dragged  through  a  weary  hour.  He  became  aware  of 
the  doctor's  entrance,  of  his  return  later,  to  the  outer 


THE  DAYSMAN  13 

room — he  felt  that  his  father  stirred,  that  a  groping 
hand  met  the  clasp  of  his  own  warm  fingers. 

It  was  a  young  face  and  a  strong  one  that  shown  out 
of  the  dim  light.  Drawn  by  the  poignant  anguish  of 
early  manhood  in  its  first  stern  lines  of  sorrow,  it  bore 
a  striking  resemblance  to  the  maturer  power  of  the 
clearly  cut  features  on  the  pillow. 

That  his  father  should  die  suddenly  in  the  full  vigor 
of  an  early  prime  was  a  contingency  of  which  he  had 
not  dreamed,  but  life  in  the  open  develops  its  own  phil- 
osophy and  the  sustained  outward  poise  with  which  he 
was  facing  the  inevitable  held  its  own  suggestion  of  na- 
tive character.  John  Treverin,  however,  mentally  bal- 
anced, physically  healthy  and  spiritually  sane  had  ar- 
rived at  the  age  of  eighteen,  with  little  idea  of  a  sub- 
mission beyond  reason.  Discipline  he  had  known  as  a 
potent  force  subduing  the  lawless  impulse  of  youth  or 
regulating  them  to  a  larger  control,  unerring  as  the 
eternal  order  of  the  universe — satisfying  one's  sense  of 
logic  in  its  keen  appeal  to  a  broader  understanding, 
but  in  the  dumb  agony  of  boyhood,  where  he  came  to 
realize  the  limitations  of  science,  the  futility  of  human 
skill,  the  inarticulate  passion  of  his  nature  fought  out 
its  first  battle  with  Fate. 

rVmld  the  ebbing  life  drift  away  in  this  fog  of  un- 
consciousness? Must  the  mind  die  without  the  power 
of  knowingr  its  own  thought?  Would  the  fervid  spirit 
be  quenched  like  smouldering  fire,  or  might  it  not, 
rather,  be  kindled  into  flame  to  go  out  in  the  pure 
flashing  of  its  own  light?  In  a  moment  of  clear  vision 
he  might  look  through  the  medium  of  his  father's  clear 


14  THE  DAYSMAN 

judgment  beyond  the  present  crisis  into  an  untried  fu- 
ture. To  demand  that  moment  was  rational — therein 
lay  his  justification.  Never  had  he  wanted  anything 
with  such  a  terrible  longing — a  longing  which  would 
not  be  denied  and  so,  hoping  against  hope,  he  reached 
the  apotheosis  of  will:  absorbed  in  expectation,  he 
transcended  grief  and  his  mental  attitude  became  an 
obsession  to  which  every  faculty  lent  itself,  with  which 
the  savage  fury  of  the  elements  and  the  grim  noises  of 
the  night  seemed  in  strange  harmony. 

Through  the  long  hours  he  waited,  dominating  the 
situation  as  the  wind  ruled  the  night,  by  the  masterful 
strength  of  blind  force,  and  when,  in  the  cold  grey 
light  of  an  early  dawn,  the  rain  came — driving  against 
the  windows,  beating  upon  the  door,  pounding  over  the 
roof — in  a  mighty  rush  of  crashing  sound,  his  vigil 
ended. 


THE  DAYSMAN  15 


CHAPTER  II. 

"Have  ye  drunk  of  the  stream  called  Hassayamp, 

Where  men  in  the  'sixties  us'  ter  camp? 

There  was  gold  galore 

An'  millions  more 

On  that  d — d  ole  Hassayamp. 

"When  ye've  drunk  of  that  stream,  all  yer  tales  might  seem, 
Purty  big  to  the  most  of  men. 
But  when  all  is  told, 
There  was  heaps  of  gold 
Took  out  near  the  Hassayamp. 

"An'  the  man  that  drinks,  jest  says  what  he  thinks. 

'Could  he  think  a  lie?'  Stranger,  pass  that  by — 

Let  him  say  the  worst — 

There  was  gold  fer  the  thirst 

Of  the  world,  near  the  Hassayamp." 

THE  sun  rode  high  in  the  Arizona  heavens  where 
light  clouds,  exhausted  of  their  moisture  for  the  reple- 
tion of  the  ground,  floated  like  white  phantoms  through 
the  blue  ether,  rested  idly  on  the  flanks  of  rugged 
mountains  or  crowned  the  crests  of  sear  hills  with  vapor- 
ous wreathes. 

Recuperating  from  a  sweeping  onslaught  of  midsum- 
mer tempest  the  drenched  earth  in  smiling  inertia 
awaited  that  miracle  of  recreation  which  comes  to  this 
country  with  the  season  of  rain.  In  the  beauty  of  the 
morning  there  was  a  promise  of  the  new  life  that  would 


16  THE  DAYSMAN 

shortly  emanate  from  the  parched  world  of  yesterday 
from  its  vegetation  sun-burned  and  dust-laden  even 
from  its  scorched  and  barren  rocks  now  gleaming  wet 
in  the  early  light.  The  rich  green  of  the  grease  wood 
shone  dark  against  a  warm  brown  soil  where  tawny 
grasses  and  yellowing  leaf  contrasted  sharply  with  the 
silver  sheen  of  waving  sage  and  the  sombre  brilliance 
of  low  scrub  oak.  Through  all  the  landscape  was  the 
fresh  sweetness  of  the  newly  washed  and  on  the  wizened 
face  of  nature  there  was  hope. 

It  was  past  the  hour  of  the  morning  shift,  but  Queen 
Elizabeth,  with  no  sound  from  the  shaft  house  to 
startle  her  calm  had  opened  the  day  in  studied  inaction 
and  holiday  attire.  Rough  men  hung  idly  about  open 
doorways  or  wandered  aimlessly  down  the  silent  street, 
where  children,  wide-eyed  and  curious,  had  gathered 
from  all  sides,  their  imagination  stimulated  to  unusual 
effort  concerning  the  possible  use  of  a  certain  harnessed 
team  and  heavy  wagon,  waiting  in  front  of  that  closed 
door,  near  which  two  saddled  horses  cropped  such  stray 
tufts  of  bunch  grass  as  were  to  be  found  within  the  lim- 
ited freedom  permitted  to  a  dragging  rein.  For  to 
draw  the  lines  over  his  head  is  equivalent,  in  the  West 
to  putting  your  animal  on  parole,  and  no  self-respect- 
ing broncho  will  ever  take  advantage  of  that  sweet  lib- 
erty of  self-restraint  so  rarely  granted  in  older  civili- 
zations where  the  systematic  planting  of  hitching-posts 
or  the  stricter  surveillance  of  a  groom  seems  to  haw 
gone  hand  in  hand  with  the  development  of  other 
forms  of  law. 

But  the  horses  browsing  calmly  and  the  huge  conis« 


THE  DAYSMAN  17 

toga  hard-by,  though  common  enough  sights  in  them- 
selves possessed  to-day  so  new  and  gloomy  an  interest 
that  wild  speculation  as  to  their  destination,  long  rife 
among  certain  small  boys,  had  reached  a  point  where 
theory  seemed  to  need  an  emphasis  difficult  to  maintain 
without  the  aid  of  fisticuffs  and  prestige  untenable 
through  argument  was  finding  more  tangible  expres- 
sion in  prowess. 

For  their  more  circumspect  elders,  however,  there 
was  no  such  exciting  diversion  to  shorten  the  long 
morning  which,  creeping  on  apace,  dragged  wearily  to 
men  unaccustomed  to  the  luxury  of  formal  mourning, 
and  to  youths  grown  restive  under  the  burden  of  an  off- 
day  without  its  usual  accompaniment  of  boisterous 
pleasure.  To  the  Baron  only,  comfortably  established 
in  deserted  offices,  refurbishing  old  tales  of  early  days 
for  the  benefit  of  a  select  au&ience,  recently  arrived 
from  "the  States"  the  uninterrupted  hours  promised  a 
large  relief  from  the  tedious  ennui  of  silence. 

"No,"  he  was  saying,  "my  real  name's  Hill — 'High 
HilF  they  use  ter  call  me  when  the  Americans  fust 
come  into  the  Territory  until  one  day  the  boss — yes, 
him  that's  lyin'  dead,  up  yonder,"  with  a  nod  of  mys- 
terious gravity  in  the  direction  of  the  cabin  on  the 
ledge,  "sent  for  me  to  guide  a  party  over  the  moun- 
tains to  look  at  a  property,  in  Skull  Valley.  'This  is 
His  Highness  of  the  Hassayampa,  gentleman,'  says  he. 
'and  I  think  I've  never  known  of  any  one,  with  the 
exception  of  the  famous  Munchausen' — he  added  kind 
of  laughing,  'who  has  had  sech  interestin'  and  startlin' 
experiences ! ' 


18  THE  DAYSMAN 


"Well,  not  knowin'  my  real  name  and  havin'  to  call 
me  somethin'  they  jest  natchelly  took  to  'Baron,'  and 
the  name's  sort  of  stuck  ever  since.  Do  I  know  any- 
thing about  the  other  Baron,  d'ye  say?  Yes,  I  learnt 
later  that  he  was  a  German  feller  what  had  done  a 
heap  of  travelin',  though  he'd  somehow  missed  the 
Hassayamp. ' ' 

"Yes,"  in  response  to  a  tentative  question,  "I  have 
seen  great  doin's  along  that  ole  stream.  I  was  guidin' 
there  in  the  sixties  when  the  Vulture  mine  was  turnin' 
out  millions  in  gold  ingots  and  money  so  source  that 
the  miners  was  paid  in  bars  of  bullion,  weighed  out  ac- 
cordin'  to  what  was  comin'  to  each: — no,  it  wasn't  the 
first  time  that  metal  bearin'  the  stamp  of  a  mine  had 
passed  as  currency  in  these  parts.  Why,  sir,  years  ago, 
slabs  of  silver  from  the  Patagonia  mines,  wuth  from 
three  hundred  plunks  down  to  two,  was  current  coin 
this  side  of  Sonora.  My,  but  that  was  big  payin'  ore 
on  the  Hassayamp!  Them  Mexican  miners  use  ter  get 
away  with  small  fortunes  jest  by  concealin'  a  few  hun- 
dreds in  rich  quartz  down  in  their  shoes  or  hid  about 
'em  somewheres,  until,  at  last  there  was  a  regular 
searchin'  party  before  one  of  'em  was  allowed  to  leave 
it.  mine. 

One  evenin'  when  I  was  campin'  with  a  party,  of  men 
out  on  the  desert,  along  about  where  the  city  of  Phre- 
nix  is  now,  two  Mexican  miners  come  along  from  the 
North.  We'd  jest  finished  eatin'  supper,  but  the  pore 
devils  looked  so  hongry  that  we  invited  'em  to  have  a 
bit  of  the  leavin's.  They  didn't  need  no  urgin',  you 
bet,  but  begun  eatin'  like  a  couple  of  starvin'  coyotes, 


THE  DAYSMAN  IS 

an'  then,  later,  jest  as  one  of  them  there  d greasers 

was  rollin'  up  his  coat  for  a  piller,  fixin'  for  a  night 
under  the  stars,  out  of  his  pocket  dropped  a  big  tortilla. 
It  plunked  straight  down  into  the  sand  too  hard  and 
forcible  to  escape  notice,  and  when  the  durned  thing 
busted  open  there  in  the  middle  shinin'  through  the 
dusk  was  a  little  piece  of  quartz  carryin*  about  twenty 
ounces  of  free  gold,  I  could  swear." 

He  was  an  old  man,  this  "Baron,"  who  claimed  the 
spurs  of  a  veteran  raconteur.  His  hair  was  white,  and 
a  well-kept  beard  flowed  over  a  shirt  whose  immaculate 
cleanliness  was  the  more  fully  revealed  by  the  fact  that 
he  wore  no  coat.  But  whatever  he  may  have  seen,  you 
were  instantly  aware  that  neither  the  mind  of  a  sage 
nor  that  of  a  visionary  looked  out  of  the  faded  eyes, 
so  dimly  blue  in  their  pale  shallows.  The  "Baron" 
had  no  quaint  philosophy,  such  as  is  sometimes  evolved 
by  the  old  who  have  grown  deep  through  reflection. 
He  was  rather  an  observer  whose  snap-shot  views  of 
life  photographed  upon  a  sensitive  retina  and  devel- 
oped later  through  flimsy  speech,  had  been  finally  trans- 
ferred to  the  gallery  of  a  memory  which  held  no  pic- 
tures engraved  in  the  light  and  shade  of  thought,  no 
etchings  bitten  out  with  the  acid  of  emotion,  no  pow- 
erful prints  in  black  and  white — those  first  states  of 
experience — to  suggest  invidious  comparison  by  their 
technical  perfection  of  detail.  Now  and  again,  when 
some  lurid  chromo  crept  into  his  collection,  it  found 
no  rival  masterpiece  glowing  with  the  rich  colors  of 
imagination  and  yet,  there  was  a  certain  na'ive  charm 
in  the  "Baron's"  impressionistic  art.  It  mattered 


20  THE  DAYSMAN 

little  that  his  subjects  often  appeared  disproportion- 
ly  large,  slightly  blurred  or  strangely  out  of  focus,  for 
now  and  then,  on  this  thin  film  of  mental  kodak  was 
stamped  some  characteristic  glimpse  of  an  individuality 
greater  than  his  own,  some  negative  not  deficient  in 
perspective  and  suggesting  the  atmosphere  of  an  epoch 
which  has  yet  to  be  imprinted  on  the  register  of  his- 
tory. 

"Yes,"  he  drawled,  "I've  knowed  this  country  since 
the  forties,  when  I  come  in  with  a  party  bound  for  Cali- 
fornia (everybody  was  hustlin'  in  that  direction  them 
days,  with  never  a  thought  that  heaps  of  gold  nuggets 
was  lyin'  right  here  in  Ariozna  jest  waitin'  to  be  picked 
up).  As  fer  me,  it  was  pure  accident  that  I  was  left 
behind,  an'  happened  in  this  way:  Jest  before  reachin' 
Tucson,  where  we-all  was  figurin'  on  layin'  in  supplies, 
my  horse,  a  little  devil  of  a  Mexican  pinto,  rolled  over 
on  my  leg.  A  mighty  small  accident  it  seemed  at  first, 
but  fever  set  in  an'  that's  the  way  I  missed  keepin' 
company  with  my  partners'  bones  bleachin'  out  there 
in  Death  Valley.  And  so  I  stayed  in  Tucson — a  Span- 
ish fort  in  them  days — an'  a  queer  ole  pueblo  it  was, 
with  its  narrow  streets  an'  low,  thick- walled  adobe 
houses,  an'  crowded  tiendas,  where  black-eyed  senoras 
bargained  fer  jerked  beef  and  sheaves  of  wheat  brought 
fresh  from  the  pasture.  Of  course  there  was  strappin' 
cabaleros  swaggerin'  'round  and  purty  darked-skinned 
senoritas  in  plenty.  I  don't  know  jest  what  kept  me 
there,  but  they's  somethin'  about  the  sky  and  the  air 
and  the  mountains  that  kind  of  takes  hold  of  a  man  «o 
he  don't  exactly  feel  like  movin'  on.  Then,  later,  I 


THE  DAYSMAN  31 

tried  prospecting  and  when  the  Injuns  wasn't  over- 
lively,  livin'  come  mighty  easy.  There  was  fine  huntin', 
too,  in  the  Catalina  Mountains,  windin'  up  an'  up 
en'  up  through  forests  of  pine  and  fir  an'  still  higher 
to  a  point  from  where  Tucson,  lyin'  near  ten  thousand 
feet  below,  seemed  like  a  toy  village  away  off  there  on 
the  plains. 

Of  course,  there  was  days  when,  lookin'  far  East 
through  miles  an'  miles  of  sparklin  air,  you  was  apt  to 
wish  for  home  an'  faces  that  wasn't  Mexican.  Many's 
the  time,  after  one  of  them  spells  I'd  gallop  down  the 
trail  like  mad  and  rush  into  town  to  read  over  and  over 
them  d d  advertisements  of  the  stage  line,  "pro- 
vided with  new  coaches  offerin'  a  speedy  trip  from  El 
Paso  to  the  States,'  an'  assurin'  the  would-be  passen- 
gers of  such  safety  against  guerrillas  an'  Injuns  'as 
military  protection  afforded.'  There  was  one  printed 
in  Spanish  an'  English  posted  on  a  tree  in  the  plaza 
which  I  us'  ter  study  till  I  knowed  every  word  by  heart 
an'  could  almost  see  myself  cuttin'  fer  home,  but  the 
sign  didn't  offer  no  suggestions  fer  gettin'  past  those 
murderin'  Apaches,  infestin'  the  country  between  El 
Paso  and  Tucson,  an'  by  the  time  I  got  to  figgerin*  up 
the  gamble  in  them  three  thousand  unpertected  miles, 
I  wasn't  quite  so  hot  on  the  trail. 

"Besides,  minin's  interesting  not  to  say  excitin', 
when  you've  got  to  usin'  the  pick  an'  drill  with  a  gun 
lyin'  handy,  an'  your  chances  to  bein'  sent  clean  into 
kingdom  come  minus  a  scalp  and  a  few  other  conven- 
iences more  than  even.  Then  there  was  always  them  old 
stories  of  the  planchas  de  plata  eggin*  a  man  on,  and 


22  THE  DAYSMAN 

suggestin'  the  possibility  of  layin'  up  a  little  treasure 
this  side  of  heaven.  Them  Mexicans  was  a  queer  lot; 
they  had  a  habit  of  goin'  to  confession  just  before 
makin'  off  fer  a  spell  of  work  on  their  claims,  an'  it 
was  no  oncommon  sight  to  see  them  settin'  out  straight 
from  church  fer  Tucomcori  or  the  Santa  Rita  Moun- 
tains. 'A  good  thing,'  thinks  I,  'havin'  the  saints  to 
watch  with  you  against  them  Injun  devils,'  so  I  got 
myself  converted  by  a  holy  padre  and  found  their  re- 
ligion almost  as  satisfyin'  as  their  hot  tomales.  It  stands 
to  reason  that  there's  somethin'  in  it,  fer  ain't  the 
church  been  interested  in  Arizona  mines  since  the  days 
of  the  bishop's  salero?  I've  always  noticed  that  cus- 
toms don't  seem  so  queer  when  you  know  the  causes  that 
led  up  to  their  bein'  adopted.  There's  the  taste  fer 
chilli  con  came — some  folks  is  down  on  such  high  sea- 
sonin',  but,  as  the  cow-puncher  says,  at  a  temperance 
meetin*  (what  he  broke  up,  down  to  Yuma),  when  they 
tried  to  get  him  to  sign  a  pledge:  'To  be  hotter  inside 
than  you  are  outside  is  yer  only  chanct  of  keepin'  cool 

in  a  d d  country  jest  next  door  to  h 11.'    No, 

siree;  he  wasn't  talkin'  of  Arizona,  but  of  them  big 
stretches  of  California  desert  jest  beyond  the  line.  Oh, 
yes,"  with  the  nonchalent  unconsciousness  of  territorial 
pride,  "we  have  it  hot  here,  too,  sometimes,  'specially 
on  the  Southers  plains,  but  it's  always  cool  in  the 
mountains  an'  there's  mountains  everywhere,  which  is 
more  than  can  be  said  fer  lots  of  them  States  in  the  Mis- 
sissippi Valley  without  the  red-hot  reputation  of 
Arizona. 

"But  I  was  speakin'  of  Tucson  in  the   early   days. 


THE  DAYSMAN  23 

No,  sir;  I  never  went  back  of  the  Great  Divide,  myself, 
but  before  long  'the  States'  come  over  to  me  an'  the 
stars  and  stripes  floated  out  over  the  old  fort  where 
Spain  had  ruled  nigh  three  hundred  years.  Then  we 
had  military  protection  ourselves,  an'  in  fifty-six,  when 
the  Butterfield  stage  was  extended  through  Tucson  to 
San  Diego,  we  saw  the  first  of  the  Overland  Mail.  Soon 
white  settlers  began  movin'  in,  a  few  stragglin'  cattle, 
an'  more  prospectors,  but  it  wasn't  till  sixty-three,  when 
the  territorial  government  an'  ole  Prescott  took  a  start 
together,  that  things  begun  comin'  our  way.  Folks 
hadn't  paid  much  attention  to  the  ole  Ajo  Mine  sending 
its  load  of  red  oxide  and  native  copper,  by  ox  team, 
across  the  desert  to  Yuma,  shippin'  down  the  Colorado 
'roun'  to  'Frisco  an'  clean  over  to  Swansea  in  Wales, 
nor  yet  to  the  Planet  Mines  which,  between  fifty  and 
sixty,  had  their  smeltin'  likewise  done  abroad.  But 
times  changed  with  the  discoverin'  of  the  Vulture,  and 
then  men  got  busy  on  the  Hassayamp. 

"Oh,  them  was  times!  Sinkin'  shafts — borin'  tun- 
nels? No,  sir,"  and  the  old  man  glanced  scornfully  out 
over  the  crude  ugliness  of  the  slag  dumps  and  as  much 
of  the  smug  prosperity  of  Queen  Elizabeth  as  it  was 
possible  to  see  from  the  office  window — "who  wanted 
to  go  down  when  men  was  diggin'  out  with  pocket- 
knives  eighteen  hundred  dollars'  wuth  of  gold  nuggets 
in  a  day.  Grass-root  bonanzas?  Well,  I  guess  so,  with 
ore  runnin'  higher  than  ten  thousand  dollars  to  the  ton, 
right  on  top  of  the  ground.  To  scratch  a  rock  f  er  lead 
and  find  over  a  million  in  silver  sounds  like  fairy  tales, 
but  it  was  as  sure  a  thing  as  the  fact  that  ore  millin' 


24  THE  DAYSMAN 

less  than  one  hundred  a  ton  was  flung  on  the  dumps  to 
waste. 

"It  may  be  true  what  the  boss  always  said  about 
there  bein'  bigger  fortunes  deeper  down,  but  it  takes 
heaps  of  money  to  get  there,  and  you  can't  see  it  come 
quite  so  quick;  but,"  reminiscently,  "the  boss  certainly 
set  great  store  by  this  here  mine.  I  recollect  the  first 
day  the  water  come  through — piped  clean  over  the 
mountains  agin  a  head  of  a  thousand  feet ;  he  was  stand- 
in'  at  the  tank,  half  way  up  that  hill,  ketchin'  the  first 
flow  straight  in  his  sombrero  like  a  boy  .  Men  had  been 
trampin'  these  hills  fer  years,  prospectin'  'roun'  lo- 
catin'  a  claim  here  and  there  on  the  mountain  side,  but 
gold  and  silver  seemed  scarce  in  these  canyons  com- 
pared to  other  big  finds  of  them  days,  an'  green  copper 
stains  didn't  interest  a  man  much  when  he  hadn't  the 
money  to  develop  his  prospect  and  bring  it  to  a  pro- 
ducin'  stage.  Here  an'  there,  some  feller  with  a  little 
more  gumption  than  the  rest,  tried  to  get  others  inter- 
ested, but  had  sech  a  hard  time  doin'  it  that  he'd  sell 
out  or  trade  off  fer  somethin'  more  promisin'.  At  last 
an  Arizona  company  bought  up  several  claims,  run  a 
tunnel  into  the  hill,  took  out  quite  a  lot  of  ore,  an'  then 
begun  to  get  scared.  It  was  jest  about  that  time  that 
the  boss  come  along  and  took  over  the  whole  blamed 
outfit.  He  begun  developin'  alone,  spendin'  every  cent 
he  had,  some  say,  but  never  turnin'  a  hair.  'Layin*  the 
foundations  of  a  great  mine,'  I've  heered  him  tell  his 
friends,  laughin',  'an'  sinkin'  what  fortune  you've  got 
at  the  same  time,'  was  the  answer  they  give  him.  No 
matter,  he  kep'  on  backin'  his  faith  with  his  money  an', 


THE  DAYSMAN  25 

at  last,  when  it  begun  to  get  aroun'  that  the  boss  had 
struck  a  perty  good  thing,  men  outside  the  Territory 
begun  to  get  attracted.  Oh,  yes,  he  let  em  in,  I  guess, 
at  any  rate,  there  was  a  smelter  blown  in,  these  roads 
was  built,  more  men  was  employed,  an '  a  bigger  volume 
of  ore  was  extracted,  but  the  boss  always  held  the  con- 
trollin'  interest,  leastways,  I've  never  knowed  of  no 
other  aetin'  head.  An'  I'm  sort  of  wonderin'  what's 
agoin'  to  become  of  it  now?" 

Hereupon,  the  "Baron/  perceiving  that  his  listeners 
began  to  look  deeply  bored,  decided  to  introduce  one 
of  those  highly  colored  chromo  lithographs  which  were 
kept  in  his  repertoire  for  moments  when  the  interest 
began  to  flag  and  which  were  no  doubt  responsible  for 
bis  reputation  as  a  great  spinner  of  yarns.  These  stories 
purporting  to  describe  adventures  encountered  in  the 
"Baron's"  youth,  must  have  originated  in  those  bibul- 
ous moments  when  frequent  strong  potations  exercised 
a  stimulating  influence  upon  a  mind  lacking  innate 
originality  and  otherwise  deficient  in  inventive  genius. 
For  the  man,  now  grown  old,  possessed  so  fatal  a  ten- 
dency toward  historical  accuracy  as  to  resort  to  fiction 
only  when  he  suspected  that  his  hearers  had  no  taste 
for  fact.  With  the  intuition  natural  to  a  showman, 
however,  he  sooner  or  later  "sensed"  the  fact  of  wan- 
dering attention,  and  with  the  autocratic  self-conscious- 
ness of  the  "habitual  entertainer,"  to  whom  applause 
is  the  only  criterion  of  success,  prepared  to  hold  his 
audience  at  any  cost. 

But — there  was  a  sudden  stir  in  the  curious  crowd 
that  waited  further  up  the  street,  and  the  door,  so  long 


26  THE  DAYSMAN 

watched,  was  at  last  thrown  wide.  The  heavy  tramp  of 
rough-shod  feet  sounded  across  a  bare  board  floor  and 
the  long,  rude  box,  whose  crude  outlines  shown  through 
unskillful  drapings  of  somber  black,  was  borne  forth 
slowly  by  eight  strong  men  and  placed  in  the  waiting 
wagon.  Two  riders  mounting  rode  before  and,  as  all 
descended  the  winding  street,  hats  came  off  and  silence 
reigned  while  Queen  Elizabeth  honored  her  dead.  For 
the  man  who  had  made  her  what  she  was,  those  heads 
were  bared.  Was  there  none  to  mourn  his  dream  of 
what  she  was  to  be  ?  Had  it  passed  with  the  man  ?  Ah, 
how  much  lies  hidden  behind  the  veil  of  the  future ! ' 


THE  DAYSMAN  27 


CHAPTER  III. 

"My  real  facts  may  fall  under  suspicion  by  being  found  in 
company  with  his  confounded  inventions.  They  had  all  been 
travelers  and  upon  their  return  home  had  deceived  their 
friends  by  describing  places  they  never  saw  and  relating  things 
that  never  happened :  this  gave  me  no  concern,  however,  as  I 
have  ever  confined  myself  to  facts. — Munchausen. 

"That,"  said  the  Baron,  "is  Richard  Wood, 
ridin'  along  with  the  boss'  son.  He  got  here  last  night 
jest  before  the  storm — was  sent  fer,  I  s'pose,  they  was 
always  friends.  Fine  man,  Wood,  makin'  money,  I 
guess,  leastways  they  say  he's  buildin'  some — got  a  rail- 
road in  his  head — an'  he's  not  the  man  to  play  a  losin' 
game;  though  there's  this  difference  between  him  an' 
most  others:  He's  all  the  time,  like  the  look-out  in  faro, 
watchin'  to  see  that  the  hull  crowd's  playin'  fair  an' 
nobody  cheatin'  the  Territory." 

The  man,  thus  described,  rode  at  the  head  of  the 
small  procession  that  wound  down  the  steep  hillside 
road  and  out  across  the  valley.  Erect  in  the  saddle, 
seeming  almost  to  stand — so  straight  was  the  line  from 
head  to  foot — he  held  the  long  stirrup  with  that  certain 
pliant  resoluteness  which  is  the  poetry  of  motion;  and 
the  art  of  "getting  into  a  horse,"  sometimes  natural, 
more  often  acquired,  appeared  to  be  his  in  such  perfec- 
tion that  the  rhythmic  motion  of  the  animal  seemed  in 
retroactive  harmony  with  the  well-knit  figure  of  the 
man. 


28  THE  DAYSMAN 

The  same  tractable  firmness  in  his  manner  of  han- 
dling the  lines,  made  of  the  simple  gesture  something 
more  than  muscular  contraction,  something  far  from 
the  accidental,  something  indeed  which  might  have  im- 
pressed the  keen  observer  as  quite  characteristic.  It 
conveyed  a  slight  suggestion  of  the  talent  for  mastery, 
it  hinted  at  a  latent  gift  for  supremacy  which,  no  doubt, 
would  be  corroborated  in  the  face,  just  then  concealed 
by  the  broad  brim  of  a  wide  felt  hat.  There  was  an 
easy  dignity  in  his  carriage  of  a  tall  and  rather  sinewy 
form  that  lent  to  the  careless  picturesqueness  of  an  or- 
dinary Western  riding  costume  a  subtle  air  of  disttno- 
tion. 

"He  came  to  the  Territory  when  he  was  a  boy."  It 
was  the  "Baron"  again  who  spoke,  and  this  time  his 
laconic  sentences  met  with  a  certain  amount  of  response, 
for  interest  will  ever  quicken  to  that  dominant  note  of 
individuality  which,  for  lack  of  a  better  term,  men  have 
defined  as  personal  magnetism,  and  there  were  few 
among  his  hearers  who  had  not  heard  of  Richard  Wood 
— a  name  which  even  at  that  time  had  begun  to  carry 
weight  in  the  Territory.  "He'd  started  drivin'  a  stage 
in  California;  next,  he  was  runnin'  the  hull  outfit,  an' 
at  last  sold  out  the  line  at  a  profit  and  with  that  small 
capital  he  started  in  here.  You  couldn't  keep  Wood 
under,  ef  ye  tried.  He's  got  the  trick  of  rulin'  men.  I 
recollect  when  he  was  managin'  the  Lone  Star  Mine 
(folks  said  he  was  a  heap  too  young  to  tackle  a  thing  of 
that  kind,  but  he  had  the  grit,  an'  that's  what  counts 
in  any  proposition),  there  was  a  big  strike  on,  an'  ole 
Joe  Sedges,  the  owner,  come  down  to  help  out.  When 


THE  DAYSMAN  89 

he  got  there  things  was  in  perty  bad  shape.  The  men 
was  hangin'  Dick  in  effigy,  while  that  blamed  kid  him- 
self was  standin'  guard  in  the  engine-room,  with  a 
loaded  revolver  in  each  hand,  facin'  a  committee  of 
leaders  that  had  come  to  consult  about  makin'  terms. 
He  kep '  em  at  bay  with  the  look  in  his  eye  an '  by  sayin ' 
quietly,  'there  are  ten  to  one,  an'  you  could,  no  doubt, 
overpower  me  in  short  order,  but  the  first  two  or  three 
may  go  down  and  out,  for  I  seldom  miss  my  aim.' 

"Then  ole  Joe  sent  Dick  up  to  Prescott,  sixty  miles 
over  a  lonely  road — with  all  the  surplus  ore  loaded  on 
a  wagon  of  rusty  nails — to  engage  strike-breakers  an' 
bring  em  down  as  quick  as  possible.  By  the  time  he 
arrived,  however,  with  a  hull  new  force,  the  thing  was 
over  an '  they  nachelly  expected  the  new  party  to  go  back 
accordin'  to  argreement,  but  they  kep'  lingerin'  aroun', 
enjoyin'  the  livin'  (fer  we  had  a  fine  mess  cook),  an' 
finally  ups  and  departs  without  payin'  their  board  fer 
all  them  extry  days,  though  they  had  been  paid  all  that 
was  due  them  an'  more,  too.  When  Dick  heard  about 
it  he  was  so  mad  he  jest  jumped  on  his  horse  an'  caught 
'em  up  over  the  mountain  where  he  called  a  halt  an' 
demanded  of  each  man  to  settle  up  square.  They  all 
done  it,  too,  though  never  a  one  could  explain  jest  why, 
fer  Dick  was  alone,  an'  they  wasn't  over  nice  characters, 
er  a  bit  squeamish  on  a  point  of  killin'. 

"Another  time,  when  the  cook  of  the  mess  (as  drunk 
as  a  lord  an'  quarelin'  mad)  come  chasm'  down  the 

street  with  a  carvin'  knife,  rinmin'  like  h 11  fer  one 

of  the  men,  an'  was  jest  on  the  pint  of  jabbin'  it  home, 
Dick  jumped  in  an'  throwed  em  apart,  with  never  a 


30  THE  DAYSMAN 

thought  of  bein'  stabbed  an — 'what  d'ye  mean  by  dis- 
turbin'  the  peace?'  was  all  he  ever  said. 

"An'  the  cook?  He  went  off  as  quiet  as  a  lamb.  So- 
bered so  quick  that  he's  swore  by  the  'young  un'  ever 
since. 

But  Dick  had  his  enemies,  too — what  man  that 
amounts  to  anything  hasn't  set  some  tongues  to  waggin' 
the  other  way?  That  very  act  of  separatin'  the  cook 
from  his  victim  made  some  fellers  in  camp  fearful  mad. 
I  s'pose  it  was  jealousy  at  seein'  sech  a  kid  do  the 
brave. 

"The  worst  of  the  lot  was  Jake  Suiters — a  mean, 
sneakin'  cuss  who  took  the  opportunity  as  Dick  wag 
passin'  through  the  mess  hall  (to  a  little  room  at  the 
fur  end  where  him  an'  ole  Joe  et  their  grup  in  quiet), 
to  throw  a  crust  of  bread  right  square  agin  Dick 's  back. 

"You  know  how  them  things  go  with  a  hull  crowd 
of  men  lookin'  on  to  laff  at  the  one  what  gets  beat — 
whether  he  happens  to  be  the  better  feller  or  not — but, 
quick  as  a  flash,  Dick  wheeled  about,  afore  Jake  Suiters 
had  time  to  wink,  an'  walkin'  straight  up  to  the  strap- 
pin'  feller,  he  looked  him  calmly  in  the  eye. 

"  'Did  you  throw  that  crust?' 

"  'I  did,'  sez  Jake,  kind  of  sneerin',  'an'  what's  a 
goin'  to  happen  now?' 

"  'Jest  this,'  sez  Dick,  an  he  picks  him  up  by  the 
scruff  of  the  neck  an'  throws  him  out.  'Would  anyone 
else  like  to  follow  suit?'  he  asks,  kind  of  quiet,  with  a 
flashin'  eye,  an'  you  can  jest  bet  they  cheered  like  mad 
fer  Dick  had  a  will  that  c'd  beat  his  strength. 

"After  all,  the  whole  secret  of  the  game  is  keepin' 


THE  DAYSMAN  31 

cool,  but  not  one  man  in  ten  can  do  it  in  a  crowd,  when 
it  comes  to  the  pint  of  danger. 

' '  It  reminds  me  of  an  adventure  I  once  had  with  side- 
winders (though  side-winders  is  more  like  wimmen) — 
they  both  have  their  peculiarities,  an'  when  you've  once 
got  the  trick  of  managin'  either,  they're  jest  no  trouble 
at  all.  Yes,  I've  had  heaps  of  experience  with  the  crit- 
ters— not  meanin'  wimmen,  but  side-winders. 

"A  Moqui  snake-dance  ain't  in  it  with  what  I've 
gone  through.  Haven 't  seen  a  snake-dance  yet,  I  s  'pose. 
No?  Well,  folks  seldom  does  till  they've  been  in  the 
Territory  longer  than  you  all  have.  Kind  of  hard  trav- 
elin'  up  that  way.  Country's  infested  with  snakes  and 
Injuns.  It  means  ridin'  over  miles  and  miles  of  the 
Painted  Desert — long,  hot  days,  and  short,  cool  nights, 
eampin'  under  the  stars.  I'm  to  take  some  ole  parties 
up  there  next  month ;  they  want  to  study  the  ceremonies 
— goin'  to  write  a  book  an'  all  that. 

' '  The  reason  the  Moquis  have  so  little  excitement  when 
il  comes  to  snakes  is,  because  they,  long  ago,  caught 
right  on  to  their  job.  Of  course,  the  problem's  gettin' 
simpler,  too,  because  the  snakes  is  learnin'  to  accommo- 
date theirselves  to  noo  conditions — retreatin'  into  sort 
of  snake  reservations,  same  as  the  Injuns — but  that 
wan't  so  in  the  early  days.  I  remember  well  that  sum- 
mer. It  was  August,  an'  the  whole  desert  was  like  a 
garden.  I  was  guidin'  some  explorers  through  the 
Canyon  Country.  They  was  expectin'  fire  an'  brim- 
stone, an'  there,  stretchin'  'roun'  on  every  side,  was  the 
black  and  white  grama  grasses  fresh  an'  green  after  the 
summer  rains.  Wild  flowers  galore!  Sunflowers  an' 


12  THE  DAYSMAN 

marigolds,  dazzlin'  your  eyes;  mariposa  lilies  ez  white 
ez  snow,  an'  Injun  paint-brushes  flamin'  red.  Blue 
blossoms,  pink  flowers  an'  all  so  unexpected  that  my 
party  was  rubbin'  their  eyes  hard  to  make  sure  of  bein' 
awake;  they  was  that  amazed  at  sech  goins  on  in  the 
Desert. 

"It  was  all  mighty  gay  till  evenin'  come,  and  we'd 
made  down  our  beds  on  the  shiftin'  sand.  The  nights  is 
ez  cold  as  the  days  is  warm  on  the  desert ;  so  we  spread 
our  blankets  near  the  fire  and  gradually  begun  droppin' 
to  sleep;  though  coyotes  howlin'  on  the  hills  with  now 
and  then  the  far-away  bark  of  a  timber- wolf  or  the  long 
screechin'  of  a  puma,  miles  up  on  the  San  Francisco 
Peaks  ain't  the  sweetest  kind  of  a  lullerby,  an'  sort  ef 
inclines  a  man  to  keep  clutchin'  his  gun. 

"I'm  a  right  smart  sleeper  myself,  an'  didn't  notice 
nothin'  except  afterwards  I  remembered  of  dreamin' 
that  I'd  been  caught  under  a  avalanche  an  of  feelin' 
like  a  ton's  weight  was  on  top  of  me.  But  it  was  a 
heap  wusser  than  snow,  as  you'll  agree  when  you've 
heered  all. 

"Well,"  the  "Baron"  paused.  By  a  series  of  adroit 
maneuvers  he  had  brought  his  audience  back  to  the 
point  where  his  story  had  been  interrupted.  Their  very 
interest  in  Richard  Wood  had  been  manipulated  for  his 
own  advantage  and  now,  with  an  intuitive  faculty  for 
enhancing  the  value  of  the  dramatic  moment,  he  could 
not  resist  an  impressive  caesura;  "it  was  along  about  two 
o'clock,  I  should  say,  that  I  heered  a  long,  blood-cur- 
dlin'  yell,  like  a  wild-cat  strangling  I  threw  off  my 
blanket  an'  was  on  my  feet  gettin'  ready  to  fire  my 


THE  DAYSMAN  83 

gun  (fer  I  was  plumb  sure  there  was  wild  animals  of 
some  sort  attaekin'  one  of  my  party).)  But  no  sooner 
did  I  get  my  eyes  good  an'  open  than  I  seen  a  sight  to 
make  yer  blood  run  cold. 

"  'What  t'  hell!  It's  rattle-snakes!'  I  screeched,  an' 
by  the  horns  of  Satan,  I  could  swear  that  every  inch  of 
blanket  which  covered  a  man  was  a  writhin',  twistin', 
squirmin'  mass  of  side-winders  what  had  crawled  up 
to  enjoy  a  nap  by  the  fire.  The  hollerin'  that  had  woke 
me  was  from  a  pore  feller  who  had  once  had  delirium 
tremens  an'  when  he  opened  his  eyes  kind  of  sudden 
he  thought  he'd  got  em  again  from  the  bad  whiskey 
we'd  brung  along — fer  sickness. 

"Of  course,  it  was  thro  win'  off  my  blanket  so  quick 
that  let  me  out  easy,  but  there  was  all  them  other  pore 
devils  afraid  to  stir  fer  fear  of  angerin'  the  snakes, 
an'  yet  shakin'  so  hard  with  nervous  chills  that  the  dog- 
en  critters  begun  waken'  up  of  theirselves — rattlin'  an' 
hissin'  an'  rarin'  up  their  heads  most  vicious. 

"'Murder!  Help!'  yelled  the  misable  wretches, 
their  hair  standin'  on  end  an'  their  eyes  well  nigh 
burstin'  out  of  their  heads.  It  was  the  awfulest  scene 
I've  ever  saw.  All  of  them  snakes  gettin'  readier  an' 
readier  to  strike,  with  me  standin'  helpless  before  them 
onlucky  beggars,  my  mind  all  froze  up  with  horror. 

"Then  all  of  a  sudden,  it  come  to  me  what  to  do. 
Snatchin*  my  red  handkercher  from  aroun'  my  neck,  I 
tore  it  into  fine  strips  an'  bindin'  them  to  a  short 
switch,  as  quick  as  possible,  behold,  I  had  a  instrument 
somewhat  resemblin'  the  Moqui  prayer-sticks.  With 
that  I  began  teasin'  one  of  the  reptiles  that  was  lyin' 


34  THE  DAYSMAN 

a  little  on  the  outskirts  of  the  army  till  I'd  got  him 
good  an'  roused.  Then  ticklin'  his  head  an'  twirlin' 
the  thing  before  his  eyes,  I  soon  had  him  broad  awake 
an'  so  angry  that  he  follered  my  lead,  lookin'  all  the 
while  as  wicked  as  Satan  himself.  Of  course,  when  I 
had  him  alone  it  was  no  trouble  at  all  to  finish  him  with 
a  stone  or  a  heavy  stick  or,  when  worst  come  to  worst, 
with  a  shot  from  my  gun. 

"Well,  gentlemen,  I  kep'  that  up  till  I'd  cleaned  off 
one  blanket  an'  rescued  the  man  underneath.  Then  I 
started  him  to  workin'  in  the  same  fashion  an'  after 
he'd  got  up  his  courage,  we  went  along  faster.  But  by 
this  time,  as  ye  may  imagine,  it  was  broad  day,  an', 
with  the  sun  smilin'  down  most  cordial  from  above,  the 
heat  of  the  fire,  and  the  comfortin'  warmth  of  the  men 
below  the  blankets,  the  critters  grew  a  little  more 
restless.  Three  and  four,  sometimes  six,  begun  wakin' 
up  at  the  same  moment,  which  made  things  a  little 
too  lively,  an'  I  was  jest  about  desperate  (seein'  the 
other  feller  was  new  to  the  snake-charmin '  business  an' 
bein'  an'  amateur  actor,  was  almost  frantic  with  stage 
fright  as  soon  as  the  exhibition  promised  to  end  disas- 
trous, after  all). 

"  'Neednecsity  bein'  the  mother  of  invention,'  how- 
ever, made  me  hit  upon  a  plan  that  finished  the 
thing  up  quick.  It  happened  by  accident  when  I  see 
three  angry  rattlers  wakin'  up  at  the  same  instant, 
an'  all  (havin'  seen  my  flamin'  red  charm)  startin' 
briskly  towards  me  at  once.  Fortunately,  one  of  'em 
got  a  little  ahead  of  the  rest  an'  begun  tackin'  side- 
ways, like  a  sailboat,  in  my  direction,  when  the  second 


THE  DAYSMAN  35 

i 

snake,' not  noticin'  nothin'  but  the  charm,  lit  out,  fol- 
io win'  hard  after  Number  One,  an'  Number  Three, 
likewise,  come  slidin'  an'  twistin'  along,  most  graceful, 
with  his  beady  black  eyes  glued  to  that  durned  charm. 
Then  it  was  that  I  lost  my  head  complete,  twirlin'  the 
thing  aroun'  an'  aro.un'  till  I  was  so  dizzy  I  couldn't 
see,  an'  was  expectin'  almost  any  instant  to  feel  them 
three  pair  of  poisonous  fangs  sendin'  me  by  a  short  cut 
to  the  Moqui  heaven  where  snakes  is  called  'yer 
brother. ' 

"How  long  it  was  before  I  come  to,  I  don't  egzackly 
know,  but  when  I  did  I  looked  aroun'  sort  of  dumb- 
foundered  at  findin'  myself  still  alive  an'  wonderin' 
what  had  struck  them  blamed  snakes — an'  sure  as 
I'm  settin'  here  before  ye  this  minute,  they  was  chasm' 
each  other  'roun'  an'  'roun'  in  a  circle  like  mad,  with 
me  settin'  there  as  safe  as  I  am  right  in  the  middle 
of  this  here  room,  fer  ye  see,  gentlemen,  they'd  for- 
got all  about  me  an'  the  prayer-stick,  an'  all  the  other 
rattlers  an'  each  one  was  follerin'  the  other  hard  with 
murder  in  his  eye. 

Then,  as  the  circle  kep'  narrowin'  an'  narrowin'  each 
snake  meanwhile  gettin'  closer  to  his  prey,  a  strange 
thing  happened. 

"All  of  a  sudden,  the  third  snake,  which  was  a  little 
fresher  in  the  race  and  less  winded  than  the  others, 
ketches  up  to  the  second  snake,  an'  quick  as  a  flash,  with 
one  big  gulp,  swallers  Number  Two  down  whole.  The 
first  snake  was  by  this  time  far  behind  his  quarry  (be- 
cause, you  understand,  the  third  snake's  former  loca- 
tion in  the  circle,  was  now  left  vacant,  him  havin' 


36  THE  DAYSMAN 

usurped  the  place  of  the  second  snake  who  was  just 
then  occupying  somewhat  against  his  will,  the  third 
snake's  skin). 

Jest  draw  a  picture  of  the  sitooation,  an'  you  can 
get  the  idee  most  perfect,"  and  the  "Baron,"  with  in- 
genious candor,  prepared  to  demonstrate  the  proposi- 
tion. "At  the  time,  I  was  settin'  near  that  d d 

circle,  starin'  kind  of  wild  to  see  what  was  goin'  to  hap- 
pen next,  but  since  then,  I've  figgered  it  all  out  an*  it's 
most  simple  pervidin'  ye  c'n  see  it  in  yer  mind's  eye. 

Of  course  the  third  snake  was  now  mighty  clost  to 
the  first  snake's  tail  (an*  as  rattlers  never  faces  square 
about  when  they've  once  got  started  in  a  certain  direc- 
tion, until  they've  done  what  they  started  out  to  do) 
it  looked  as  though  Number  Three  was  boun'  to  win, 
by  all  the  odds,  fer  Number  One  was  two-thirds  of  a 
circle  behind  his  tail  an'  they  both  kep'  flyin'  'roun' 
an'  'roun'  without  stoppin'. 

"There's  one  thing,  however,  that  ye  mustn't  fergit, 
namely,  that  Number  One  had  a  handicap  because  pore 
ole  Number  Three,  now  carryin'  double,  soon  found 
movin'  not  quite  so  easy;  but,  as  snakes  is  accustomed 
to  swallerin'  most  anything,  he  didn't  seem  to  mind 
nothin'  except  the  disconcertin'  sound  of  the  second 
snake 's  rattles,  which,  comin '  from  his  own  insides,  kep ' 
up  a  sort  of  muffled  juet  with  his  own  rattles,  an'  made 
him  feel,  I  guess,  like  he  had  the  jim-jams.  Anyway, 
purty  soon,  he  seemed  to  get  sort  of  rattled,  an'  from 
that  pint  on  got  to  movin'  so  slow  that  Number  One 
ketched  him  up  without  much  trouble  an',  all  in  a  min- 
nte,  gulped  the  hull  blamed  outfit  in  one  big  mouthful. 


THE  DAYSMAN  J7 

Well,"  the  "Baron's"  pause  was  more  effective  than 
words,  "I  guess  Number  One  wasn't  quite  countin'  on 
turnin'  himself  into  a  snake  mausoleum,  an'  it  certainly 
did  look,  f  er  a  while  as  though  he  had  bit  off  more  than 
he  could  chew — that  is  to  say,  he'd  swallered  more  than 
he  could  manage.  Anyway,  he  laid  sort  of  still  an'  lan- 
guid durin'  what  seemed  like  five  minutes,  an'  then 
(feelin'  maybe,  more  like  his  ole  self),  he  started  to 
slide  along  kind  of  slow  and  cumbersome,  toward  a  flat 
rock,  near  by,  where  he  was  calculating  no  doubt,  to 
sleep  it  off. 

"But,  holy  smoke,  jest  like  a  shot  he  seemed  to  go 
completely  off  his  base — rarin'  an'  staggerin'  an'  pitch- 
in'  and  plungin'  about  most  fearful,  like  a  man  in  a  fit, 
because  what  little  sense  he  had  left  fersook  him  en- 
tirely the  minute  he  heered  himself  rattlin'  a  sort  of 
chorus  with  some  parts  in  a  loud,  clear  tenor,  some  kind 
of  soft  and  far  away,  an'  others  mejum  but  strong,  like 
the  continual  strummin'  of  deep  base  drums.  It  was  a 
weird  noise  fer  sure,  an'  so  awful  clear  did  it  sound 
that  the  pore  crazy  snake  flopped  down  in  the  sand,  as 
limp  as  a  rag  an'  breathin'  his  last. 

"Well,  gentlemen,  many  opinions  has  been  expressed, 
an'  more  remarks  made  regardin'  sech  a  marvel.  Hank 
Haskins  says  it's  the  first  time  he  ever  knowed  of  any 
critter  playin'  his  own  funeral  march.  The  boss  has 
described  it  as  'the  rattler's  swan-song,'  but  I've  allus 
said  that  to  me  it  seemed  like  the  incarnation  of  that 
death-rattle  that  we're  allus  readin'  about  an*  never 
hearin'. 

"What  become  of  all  them  dead  rattlers?     I  don't 


38  THE  DAYSMAN 

know,  gentlemen.  We  was  too  wore  out  with  the 
grewsome  experience  (which  was  like  a  homopatiiic 
cure  fer  most  of  them  pore  explorers,  seein'  as  how  what 
fear  brung  on  terror  took  away,  an'  the  only  way  I 
could  get  em  to  lie  still  an'  quit  hollerin'  while  I  per- 
formed my  miracles  was  by  shoutin',  'Don't  move  ef  ye 

value  yer  d nd  lives,  otherways  yere  mummies  fer 

good').  No,  we  didn't  care  much  fer  souveneers,  an' 
all  come  away  without  a  single  skin  er  a  solitary  rattle 
to  bear  out  our  testimony.  I  only  recollect  that  some 
days  later  when  we  rode  into  Prescott  my  health  was 
drunk  at  the  ole  Diana  Saloon,  an'  these  was  the  toasts: 
'To  Saul,  who  slew  his  thousands,'  says  one.  'Not 
much,  shouted  Hank  Haskins.  who  was  loafin'  'roun' 
the  bar,  'more  like,  it's  David,  fer  already,  in  the  tellin', 
the  number  has  riz  to  tens  of  thousands',  says  Hank. 


THE  DAYSMAN  39 


CHAPTER   IV. 

"A  man,  he  was  of  cheerful  yesterdays  and  confident  to- 
morrows." 

"Is  Mr.  Freeman  disengaged?" 

With  a  negative  answer  on  the  tip  of  his  tongue,  the 
office  functionary  hesitated,  for  the  questioner,  in  spite 
of  his  youth,  had  the  air  of  one  accustomed  to  admit- 
tance wherever  it  might  be  sought — and  then  with  a 
"please  be  seated  while  I  see,"  he  decided  to  take  the 
card  of  John  Treverin  to  the  great  financier. 

In  the  sanctum  sanctorum  a  directors'  meeting  was 
in  progress,  but  Robert  Freeman's  frown  of  annoyance 
changed  so  quickly  to  a  whimsical  smile  as  the  name 
on  the  pasteboard  met  his  eye,  that  the  clerk's  perfunc- 
tory message  seemed  to  radiate  something  of  pleasure 
in  his  own  discernment  as  he  returned  to  the  stranger 
with  the  announcement  that  Mr.  Freeman  would  be  at 
leisure  within  the  next  half-hour,  and  that  he  hoped 
Mr.  Treverin  could  wait. 

It  appeared  that  Mr.  Treverin  could,  and  he  seemed, 
moreover,  to  find  the  prospect  diverting  rather  than  a 
bore,  for  there  was  something  about  these  busy  offices 
overlooking  "the  street"  that  appealed  to  his  present 
mood.  It  might  have  been  the  craving  of  his  latent 
energies  for  direction;  it  might  have  been  only  that 
Freeman  &  Company  represented  a  side  of  his  grand- 
parent that  John  Treverin  had  never  known,  for  it  was 


40  THE  DAYSMAN 

but  four  years  since  the  name,  apparently  a  power  in 
this  world  of  lower  New  York,  had  first  defined  for  the 
boy  his  mother's  father. 

How  little  he  knew  after  all  of  the  new  forces  that 
had  crept  into  his  life  since  that  wild  night  of  his  fath- 
er's death:  since  that  long  ride  over  the  desert  when, 
wrapped  in  the  misery  of  his  own  dull  apathy  he  had 
paid  little  heed  to  the  mighty  floods,  to  the  turbid  tor- 
rents of  liquid  sand  that  swept  through  broad  parched 
river  beds  where  small  clear  streams  were  wont  to  flow. 
The  impassable  fords,  the  wrecked  bridges,  the  slow 
and  toilsome  journey  over  unfrequented  roads  and 
round-about  trails  to  that  little  town  beyond  the  moun- 
tains where  the  final  rites  had  been  performed,  seemed 
all  a  part  of  an  evil  dream,  a  weary  progress  through 
some  fitful  nightmare — emanating  in  a  wilderness  of 
solitude  to  vanish  with  the  eternal  silence  of  those  des- 
erts whose  vast  waste  lands  he  had  known  from  child- 
hood. 

Then  had  followed  the  finding  of  his  father's  letter 
which,  with  its  vital  message  from  the  dead,  had  trans- 
formed the  grave  of  a  hope  into  the  cradle  of  an  inspi- 
ration. Its  contents  written  upon  his  brain  in  the 
throbbing  moment  of  a  first  impression  could  be  re- 
called at  will.  "My  dear  Son:—"  it  read— "In  the 
event  of  my  death,  before  you  shall  have  reached  the 
age  of  twenty-one,  I  wish  you  to  communicate  with 
your  grandfather,  whose  address  I  enclose,  and  to 
await  his  reply  before  making  any  plans  for  the  fu- 
ture." 

Upon  the  unsubdued  passion   of  his  grief  with   its 


THE  DAYSMAN  41 

wild  longing  for  more  detailed  explanation  the  terse 
business-like  sentence  had  fallen  with  a  brevity  that 
seemed  almost  cruel  and  yet,  in  the  light  of  subse- 
essence  of  its  power,  for  did  not  compliance  necessi- 
quent  events,  he  now  realized  dimly  that  therein  lay  the 
tate  action  and  had  not  action  eliminated  the  respon- 
sibility of  decision? 

The  response  that  came  over  the  wires  in  reply  to 
his  own  telegram  was  concise  and  to  the  point:  in- 
structing him  where  to  meet  his  grandfather's  emis- 
sary, who  would  leave  New  York  at  once.  And  thus 
he  had  said  good-bye  to  the  Territory,  to  his  home  and 
to  Richard  Wood — shaking  off  the  vague  oppression  of 
changed  conditions  with  that  buoyancy  which  youth 
will  ever  bring  to  the  large  promise  of  an  untried 
future. 

The  first  meeting  with  his  grandfather  had  taken 
place  in  the  serene  atmosphere  of  the  ancestral  library, 
where  the  boy  had  felt  for  the  first  time  the  pervasive 
influence  of  race.  The  sensation,  which  was  entirely 
new  and  quite  apart  from  that  inspired  in  him  by  the 
striking  living  personality  of  his  forceful  grandfather, 
had  been  in  fact  a  sudden  and  intense  realization  of 
how  much  he  had  in  common  with  those  steid  portraits 
on  the  walls  whose  colorful  dignity,  mellowed  by  age 
and  the  "tone  of  time,"  glowed  out  of  their  quaint  old 
frames  (so  dimly  rich  in  the  half-light),  with  a  subtle 
suggestiveness  that  gave  him  a  sense  of  individual  pos- 
session in  their  historic  past. 

His  isolation  from  all  family  ties  had  not  prepared 
him  for  the  quick  response  to  a  call  of  blood  which  he 


42  THE  DAYSMAN 

had  experienced  upon  the  entrance  of  his  grandfather 
and  he  had  found  himself  at  a  loss  when  he  tried  later  to 
account  for  the  instant  birth  of  their  mutual  under- 
standing. 

During  the  four  busy  years  that  followed  he  had  en- 
tered into  the  new  life  with  all  the  healthy  zest  of 
youth.  The  lack  of  disciplined  thinking  had  made  col- 
lege something  of  a  grind,  but  there  was  the  compen- 
sation of  enthusiasms  whose  vitality  had  not  been  dis- 
sipated through  years  of  preparation  and  an  inherent 
tendency  for  true  culture  which  promised  to  make  the 
scaling  of  such  real  heights  as  lie  beyond  the  hurdles 
of  academic  competition  natural  and  easy. 

His  sense  of  values  was  the  result  of  innate  appre- 
ciation rather  than  the  outgrowth  of  the  over-refine- 
ments of  civilization  and  he  seemed  as  yet  unaware  of 
the  existence  of  those  artificial  pinnacles  surrounding 
the  dead  level  of  lower  plains.  He  had  responded  to 
his  opportunities  with  the  unconscious  simplicity  and 
keen  pleasure  of  those  who  possess  a  natural  taste  for 
the  best  things  of  life  as  distinguished  from  that  avid- 
ity for  worldly  advantage  which  so  often  degenerates 
into  a  greedy  appetite  for  place. 

Winters  crowded  with  work  and  summers  filled  with 
the  diversions  offered  by  England  and  the  Continent 
had  left  little  time  for  introspection,  and  thus  he  had 
drifted  to  the  end  of  his  senior  year  with  indefinite  am- 
bitions which  had  yet  to  crystalize  into  form. 

It  was  just  at  this  point,  when  forces  long  dormant 


THE  DAYSMAN  43 

were  clamoring  for  direction  that  he  had  received  a  let- 
ter from  Richard  Wood. 

******* 

Robert  Freeman  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  his  vivid 
face  in  shadow,  his  fine  head  silhouetted  against  the 
strong  light  that  poured  through  a  window  at  his  back, 
and  in  the  energized  quiescence  of  his  well-set  shoul- 
ders there  was  no  suggestion  of  age. 

It  was  a  moment  of  relaxation  such  as  had  rarely 
come  in  the  forty  years  of  his  business  career  and,  al- 
though he  said  little  as  his  grandson  entered,  the  frank 
cordiality  of  his  smile  and  the  eager  grasp  of  his  hand 
hinted  at  a  pleasure  which  he  did  not  express.  "I  did 
not  know  that  you  were  in  town" — there  was  a  ques- 
tioning inflection  in  his  tone. 

"I  only  arrived  a  few  moments  ago  and,  as  this 
seemed  the  place  to  talk  business,  and  that  is  what  I 
am  here  for  to-day,  I  came  down  at  once,"  responded 
the  younger  man,  simply. 

"Something  wrong  at  Cambridge?"  and  the  old  man 
smiled  quizically. 

A  four  years'  acquaintance  with  his  grandson  had 
left  Robert  Freeman  still  expecting  the  reaping  of  some 
startling  crop  of  wild  oats  such  as  his  world  had  taught 
him  to  expect  from  the  abounding  vitality  of  early  man- 
hood and  he  had  not  yet  ceased  to  wonder  that  Jack 
should  have  been  able  to  take  care  of  his  own  harvests, 
at  least  to  the  extent  of  keeping  within  the  limits  of  a 
very  generous  allowance. 

His  intercourse  with  the  boy  had  brought  him,  so  far, 
every  pleasure  except  that  which  is  the  outgrowth  of  a 


44  THE  DAYSMAN 

generous  sympathy  toward  another's  failings,  and  to- 
day he  almost  hoped  that  some  petty  gambling  debt  or 
harmless  escapade  had  brought  his  grandson  to  a  realiz- 
ing sense  of  need.  Of  course,  he  meant  to  play  the  part  of 
stern  parent,  just  at  first;  that  was  a  duty  which  he 
owed  to  society,  but  he  had  a  shrewd  suspicion  of  the 
depths  that  lay  beneath  the  unruffled  surface  of  John 
Treverin's  nature,  and  he  had  never  yet  been  fortunate 
enough  to  see  them  stirred.  If  the  indulgent  tone  in 
which  he  put  his  question  was  calculated  to  invite  con- 
fidence, his  grandson's  brief  reply  and  calm  demeanor 
gave  no  hint  of  unpleasant  disclosures. 

"Things  are  well  enough  at  Cambridge,  sir,  but" 

there  was  a  moment  of  hesitation — "I  have  just 

had  a  letter  from  Richard  Wood. ' ' 

"Yes,"  there  was  a  note  of  inquiry  in  the  older  man's 
voice.  It  was  evident  that  the  fact  did  not  interest 
him,  that  he  wondered  why  it  should  have  any  special 
significance  for  the  boy. 

"And  he  says,"  John  Treverin  seemed  not  to  hav« 
noticed  the  monosyllabic  interruption,  "that  the  Queen 
Elizabeth  Mine  is  for  sale." 

"Was  that  the  extent  of  his  information?  I,  as  your 
guardian,  received  a  communication  to  that  effect  some 
time  ago." 

' '  And  you  considered  it  to  my  interest  to  let  the  mine 
go?" 

"I  decided  not  to  interfere  with  the  affairs  of  th« 
company. ' ' 

"May  I  ask  why,  sir?" 

"Because  I  saw  no  reason  for  objection." 


THE  DAYSMAN  45 

"Then  you  are  not  aware  of  the  value  of  the  mine." 
The  sentence  was  a  statement,  expressing  absolute  con- 
viction, in  which  it  was  impossible  to  detect  the  slight- 
est trace  of  a  question. 

"Really,  I  had  not  thought  it  worth  while  to  in- 
quire. ' ' 

"And  yet,  you  are  a  sagacious  business  man."  His 
grandson's  tone  was  thoughtful.  He  was  evidently  net- 
tled, he  felt  that  there  must  be  something  behind  the 
words  which  he  did  not  understand,  some  unexplained 
reason  for  an  indifference  so  elaborate  for  an  uncon- 
cernedness  so  strangely  out  of  character  with  what  he 
knew  of  the  man  who  had  given  it  expression. 

Robert  Freeman  smiled.  "Your  inference  is  far  from 
flattering,  and  yet  I  must  confess  to  small  faith  in  min- 
ing. Many  a  talent  that,  through  proper  manipulation, 
might  have  multiplied  into  much  has  been  buried  for- 
ever in  some  deep  hole  in  the  ground." 

"And  yet  millions  have  been  made  along  those  lines," 
the  young  man  spoke  eagerly. 

"And  more  money  has  been  sunk  without  even  the 
compensation  that  comes  out  of  other  failures,  wherein 
one  man's  loss  may  mean  another's  gain." 

"You  ignore  the  possibility  of  scientific  knowledge 
and  practical  experience.  You  forgot  that  mining  is 
not  all  intuition" — the  youngerman  spoke  with  some 
heat.  "To  be  sure  it  may  be  a  more  purely  creative 
form  of  accumulation  than  is  possible  here,  but" 

The  boy  paused.  His  attitude  r.p  to  this  point  had 
been  the  result  of  no  deep-rooted  conviction,  but  rather 
that  wholesome  love  of  argument  which  is  merely  an  in- 


46  THE  DAYSMAN 

clination  to  give  a  fair  hearing  to  the  other  side,  that 
intolerance  of  another's  pre judgments  which  might 
later  mellow  into  the  philosophy  of  accepting  them  as 
seriously  as  he  would  come  to  recognize  his  own. 

Robert  Freeman  was  hardly  prepared  for  the  sudden 
attack  upon  his  pet  prejudices.  He  had,  however,  that 
saving  sense  of  humor,  which  makes  a  man  quick  to  real- 
ize an  ironical  turn  of  fortune,  and  sufficient  self-con- 
trol to  keep  his  temper  in  an  emergency. 

"Is  it  not  enough, ' '  he  asked  quietly, ' ' that  everything 
your  father  ever  made  went  into  the  development  of 
this  mine?  And  what  does  it  amount  to  after  all? 
What  return  did  he  ever  get  from  the  expenditure  of 
his  abilities  and  his  money?" 

''And  yet,"  John  Treverin  spoke  slowly,  thought- 
fully, "does  not  that  very  fact  prove  his  belief  in  its 
possibilities?  Not  many  men  are  willing  to  back  their 
faith  with  their  fortunes.  My  father  was  regarded  in 
the  Territory  as  a  man  of  large  experience  in  mining 
matters  and  Richard  Wood  corroborates  his  opinion  of 
the  property." 

The  older  man,  who  had  been  watching  the  boy  earn- 
estly, interrupted  with  some  impatience.  He  resented 
his  interest  in  this  subject — an  interest  which  he  could 
not  share.  "And  even  suppose  there  were  anything  in 
it?  Why  should  it  affect  you?" 

"Only  because,"  the  boy  spoke  with  deliberation, 
"before  the  arrival  of  this  letter,  I  was  beginning  to 
think  of  what  I  meant  to  do." 

Robert  Freeman's  keen  eyes  flashed.  Here,  at  last, 
he  saw  the  practical  point  at  issue.  Once  again  he  held 


THE  DAYSMAN  47 

the  key  to  the  situation  which  had  seemed  for  a  moment 
to  be  slipping  from  his  grasp. 

"Of  course,  I  knew  that  such  a  question  would  pre- 
sent itself  to  you  sooner  or  later,  but  I  believed  you 
were  too  much  engrossed  at  present  to  care  to  take  the 
matter  up.  Otherwise  I  should  have  been  glad  to  dis- 
cuss the  subject  with  you  at  any  time.  I  had  thought" 
— the  older  man  spoke  guardedly — he  did  not  add  that 
he  had  planned — "I  had  thought  that,  providing  you 
did  not  care  to  take  up  a  profession  or  to  study  for  an 
additional  year  or  two  at  some  foreign  university,  you 
might  like  to  travel  extensively.  You  have  seen  noth- 
ing of  the  far  East — in  fact,  you  have  not  gone  beyond 
the  beaten  highways  of  Europe.  We  can  put  the  Little 
Corsican  in  commission,  make  a  tour  of  the  world — I 
might  arrange  to  take  a  long  holiday — explore  such  out- 
of-the-way  places  as  attracted  you,  together,  and 

then" there  was  a  sudden  gleam  in  the  grey  eyes, 

whose  remarkable  depth  and  brilliance  was  the  vitaliz- 
ing note  in  features  whose  singular  asceticism  might 
have  seemed  otherwise  too  unworldly — "when  you  had 
gotten  as  much  pleasure  as  you  cared  for,  I  had  hoped 
that  you  might  be  ready  (after  getting  your  grasp  of 
the  business)  to  step  into  my  place  here." 

'"And  what  does  'here'  represent?"  There  was  a 
smile  underlying  his  grandson's  words,  but  the  eyes 
that  included  the  room  in  their  glance  were  grave. 

"The  question  is  in  point."  It  was  to  the  eyes  that 
Robert  Freeman  responded.  "I  had  forgotten  that  this 
is  the  first  time  you  have  been  down.  What  does  'Free- 
man &  Company'  represent?  Self-analysis  is  never 


48  THE  DAYSMAN 

pleasant,  but  I  suppose  that  this  would  be  described  as 
one  of  the  oldest  and  most  conservative  institutions  of 
its  kind." 

"A  definition  is  not  exactly  what  I  meant  to  ask  for." 
The  young  man's  interruption  was  an  eager  protesta- 
tion. "Jenkins  gave  me  that,  years  ago  when,  with  an 
instinct,  naturally  tutorial,  he  decided  that  my  dense 
ignorance  should  be  enlightened.  He  described  you,  I 
believe,  as  a  private  banker,  exclusive  to  the  point  of 
not  bothering  about  small  affairs  of  any  kind  and 
(Jenkins  had  a  turn  for  philosophy)  he  told  me  that 
it  meant  a  great  deal  to  be  recognized  as  one  of  the 
strong  financial  powers  of  the  East ;  that  it  made  one  of 
almost  international  importance — far  more  so,  indeed, 
than  is  the  case  with  the  petty  sovereigns  of  Europe. 
So  you  see,  sir,  I  have  some  appreciation  of  the  future 
you  are  holding  out  to  me. 

"But" — the  young  man  paused;  he  was  evidently 
trying  to  express  an  idea  that  had  not  yet  been  formu- 
lated in  thought — "by  stepping  into  your  place,  should 
I  not  become  definitely  identified  with  the  East  ?  I  have 
always  felt,"  again  he  waited  tentatively,  "I  scarcely 
know  how  to  put  it,  because  I  am  not  aware  of  any  sen- 
timent in  the  matter,  but — I  have  always  felt  that  I  had 
certain  affiliations  with  the  West." 

"I  cannot  see  why."  Robert  Freeman  was  frown- 
ing heavily.  ' '  Has  the  West  ever  done  anything  for  you 
in  the  past?  Does  the  West  offer  you  anything  now?" 

"I  hardly  see  my  way  to  an  answer  at  present." 
For  the  first  time  John  Treverin  felt  a  sudden  revolt 
against  his  grandfather's  point  of  view.  Everything  in 


THE  "DAYSMAN  49 

his  nature  opposed  itself  to  a  system  of  logic  so  selfish. 
"I  do  not  know  that  it  has — I  cannot  say  that  it  does 
but  I  had  rather  thought  that  I  should  like  to  do  some- 
thing for  the  West." 

"Cannot  the  West  take  care  of  itself?"  So  ironical 
was  the  tone  that  his  question  was  almost  a  challenge. 

And  then  it  was  that  Robert  Freeman,  taken  sud- 
denly off  guard,  made  one  of  those  false  moves  for 
which  men  too  often  blame  Fate. 

The  boy's  eyes  flashed  and  he  squared  his  shoulders 
proudly. 

"You  must  understand  that  I  had  no  intention  of 
putting  that  section  of  country  in  the  position  of  want- 
ing such  small  help  as  I  might  be  able  to  give.  I  be- 
lieve that  it  is  sufficient  unto  itself.  It  will  work  out  its 
own  salvation,  never  fear."  His  voice  rang  with  some- 
thing that  had  not  been  there  before — something  that 
sounded  very  like  the  personal  note.  "The  West  does 
not  need  the  East." 

His  grandfather,  detecting  the  partisan  spirit  which 
bad  already  crept  into  the  boy's  manner,  and  filled  with 
a  vague  alarm,  a  sense  of  futile  impotence,  let  go  too 
suddenly  the  threads  of  reason  which  had,  so  far,  given 
him  the  control  of  the  situation.  The  amused  tolerance 
that  had  enabled  him,  up  to  this  point,  to  discuss  the 
subject  with  a  certain  impersonal  aloofness,  gave  place 
to  a  biting  sarcasm  which  could  be  plainly  detected  in 
the  tone  with  which  he  said,  "In  that  case  the  East 
might  learn  to  do  without  the  West." 

Too  late  he  realized  the  folly  of  so  trivial  a  retort. 
The  boy's  energies  had  found  direction  at  last  (even  aa 


50  THE  DAYSMAN 

one  of  the  sudden  cloud-bursts  of  the  land  that  gave 
him  birth,  sweeping  along  the  lines  of  least  resistance 
finds  at  last  a  natural  outlet  through  the  dry  channel 
of  the  first  arroya  in  its  path)  and,  gathering  himself  to 
his  full  height,  he  rose  slowly  to  his  feet.  There  were 
only  the  burning  eyes  and  a  slight  quiver  of  the  nostril 
to  indicate  the  strong  feeling  under  which  he  labored. 
It  was  a  full  minute  before  he  could  gain  sufficient  con- 
trol of  his  voice  to  articulate  the  words  which  came  at 
last  vibrating  with  passion.  "Then,  by  God,  sir,  we 
won't  wait  for  you  to  learn.  We'll  go  it  alone — now." 
And  turning  on  his  heel  with  a  quick  bow  he  was  gone. 
****** 

Not  until  the  slow  closing  of  the  heavy  door  had  an- 
nounced the  fact  of  his  departure  did  Kobert  Freeman 
comprehend  the  significance  of  the  pronoun — and  then 
—the  strong  features,  whose  exquisite  chiseling  had 
resisted  each  withering  touch  of  age,  appeared  sudden- 
ly drawn  and  very  old  and,  against  the  dark  wood  of 
his  high-backed  chair,  the  proud  head — all  at  once — 
seemed  very  white. 

****** 

As  John  Treverin  came  out  into  Broad  street  he 
wondered  if  his  temper  had  betrayed  him  into  an  exhi- 
bition of  what  his  grandfather  would  term  "mock  he- 
roics." He  thought  himself  too  eminently  practical  to 
be  swayed  by  motives  which  influence  the  dreamer  and, 
now  that  the  heat  of  the  moment  had  passed,  he  felt  a 
little  ashamed  of  the  grandiloquent  oath  which  must 
have  struck  his  grandfather's  cultivated  ear  as  a  rather 
violent  display  of  strong  language,  in  sharp  contrast 


THE  DAYSMAN  51 

with  the  less  forceful  but  more  refined  swearing  of  the 
effete  East,  which  he  was  accustomed  to  hearing  at  his 
club.  He  suspected  that,  after  all,  he  might  have  been 
a  fool. 

The  hurrying  crowds  and  congested  traffic  impressed 
him  as  never  before  with  the  vast  importance  of  the 
city's  life,  with  its  concentrated  activities,  with  its 
broad  opportunities.  He  believed  that  it  would  be  in- 
teresting to  get  into  the  thick  of  the  fight  if  only  one 
had  it  in  him  to  make  his  presence  felt. 

While  pausing  on  the  corner  of  Wall  Street,  during 
the  passing  of  a  loaded  truck,  he  caught  distant 
glimpses  of  the  shipping  along  the  East  Eiver,  and  by 
the  time  he  reached  Broadway  the  cool  breezes  that 
blew  up  from  the  Battery  had  swept  away  the  last  ves- 
tiges of  his  anger.  He  was  not  given  to  introspection 
and  his  instinctive  aversion  to  all  forms  of  sentiment- 
alism  had  preserved  him  from  the  pitfalls  of  the  im- 
aginative, but  at  last  he  was  feeling  the  stirrings  of  a 
high  ambition  and  his  blood  leapt  at  the  thought  of 
conflict  as  his  fingers  had  used  to  tingle  in  anticipa- 
tion of  some  boyish  scuffle.  This  was  a  broad  stage 
that  he  had  decided  to  leave,  and  in  the  uplift  of  the 
moment  in  the  sublime  egoism  of  youth  he  believed  that 
he  might  have  played  his  part  not  unworthily — even 
here. 


52  THE  DAYSMAN 


CHAPTER  V. 

".Seven  times  tried  that  judgment  is 
That  did  never  choose  amiss. 
Some  there  be  that  shadows  kiss; 
Such   have   but    a    shadow's   bliss.". 

He  did  not  telegraph  Richard  "Wood  until  after 
reaching  Chicago  and  then,  only  to  announce  the  prob- 
able date  of  his  own  arrival  in  Tucson,  at  which  point, 
his  message  read,  "Please  wire  me  where  to  find  you." 
For  it  was  to  this  man,  whom  his  father's  judgment 
and  the  experiences  of  his  own  early  boyhood  had 
taught  him  to  trust,  that  he  instinctively  turned  in  the 
sudden  change  of  fortune  which  had  left  him  master  of 
his  own  destiny. 

Whether  or  not  the  necessity  of  the  occasion  demand- 
ed it,  time  alone  would  make  clear,  but  John  Treverin 
had  elected  to  consider  the  angry  parting  with  his 
grandfather  in  the  light  of  a  final  Rubicon  of  choice 
and,  as  he  was  not  of  those  who  "draw  back,"  all  that 
remained  to  be  done  was  to  get  over  troublesome  details 
with  the  least  possible  delay.  Hence  it  was  that  the 
long-drawn-out  gayeties  of  commencement  were  cut  to 
his  own  order  through  a  "hasty  business  summons 
West,"  for  he  had  not  the  heart  to  let  this  breach  with 
his  grandfather  become  -public  scandal  through  his  own 
failure  to  claim  a  well-earned  degree,  nor  did  he  poa- 


THE  DAYSMAN  63 

sess  a  conscience  which  could  lightly  throw  all  respon- 
sibility to  the  winds. 

His  last  letter  to  Robert  Freeman  had  been  a  manly 
avowal  of  an  indebtedness  which  he  hoped  at  some  time 
to  be  able  to  repay  and  a  frank  acknowledgment  of  that 
deeper  obligation  which  he  confessed  it  would  be  an  in- 
sult ever  to  attempt  to  assume,  for  even  in  the  hot- 
headed impetuosity  of  his  decision  John  Treverin  had 
some  faint  realization  of  what  he  owed  to  those  four 
years  of  affectionate  intimacy  with  such  a  man  as 
his  grandfather.  He  had  thought  best,  he  wrote  (if  he 
could  do  so  without  his  grandfather's  disapproval),  to 
retain  the  balance  of  that  allowance  which  had  been 
placed  to  his  account  in  bank,  because  as  he  ingeniously 
expressed  it,  he  would  need  a  small  capital  for  such 
traveling  expenses  as  might  be  necessary  before  he 
could  arrive  on  the  field  of  his  choice.  With  regard  to 
the  mine  he  had  only  one  request  to  make,  which  was 
that  his  grandfather,  as  trustee  for  him,  as  a  majority 
stockholder,  would  oppose  its  sale  until  such  time  as  he 
himself  could  be  in  a  position  to  take  the  matter  in 
hand. 

On  the  whole,  John  Treverin  believed  that  his  had 
been  a  large  and  impersonal  manner  of  discussing  what 
might  have  been  vulgarly  termed  a  quarrel,  and  he  con- 
gratulated himself  on  the  breadth  of  mind,  the  sense 
of  detachment,  which  had  enabled  him  to  carry  out  his 
own  will  with  such  dignity  and  equipose.  If,  at  times, 
there  was  a  twinge  of  regret  at  leaving  the  proud  old 
man  alone  in  that  noble  despair  which  must  ever  fol- 
low upon  the  wreckage  of  high  hopes,  he  put  it  away 


54  THE  DAYSMAN 

with  the  very  definite  logic  of  the  individualist  (than 
whose  selfishness  there  is  none  more  ruthless)  that 
every  man  must  carve  out  his  own  career,  no  matter 
what  the  cost  to  others. 

"Now  at  any  rate,"  he  told  himself,  as  he  passed 
through  the  lobby  of  the  Auditorium  Hotel,  after  hav- 
ing sent  his  telegram  ("the  die  is  cast:  my  future  is 
the  future  of  Arizona,"  and  almost  in  the  same  instant 
that  the  thought  flashed  through  his  brain  he  heard  the 
sound  of  his  own  name. 

"Hello,  Treverin,  how  did  you  turn  up  here! 
Thought  you  were  at  Cambridge  doing  the  honors  as 
well  as  receiving  them.  You  needn't  tell  me  you  didn't 
get  any,  for  I  know  better.  I  have  all  the  latest  col- 
lege news  from  the  youngest  f rater  and  he  says  you've 
been  one  of  the  shining  lights — 'bosh,'  d'ye  say? — Of 
course  it's  bosh  when  you're  out,  but  it's  mighty  fine 
as  long  as  you're  in  and  you  can't  have  been  on  the 
outside  more  than  a  day  or  two  at  most." 

It  was  Bob  Travers,  an  upper  classman,  who  on  sev- 
eral momentous  occasions,  had  been  a  champion  of  his 
cause  when,  as  a  misguided  freshman,  "Treverin,  the 
plucky  little  beast,"  had  run  counter  to  the  generally 
accepted  decrees  of  that  body  which  arrogates  to  itself 
the  office  of  arbiter  elegantorum  in  the  undergraduate 
world  in  so  far  at  least  as  the  conduct  of  the  more  re- 
cently appointed  members  may  concern  the  dignity  of 
the  "old  guard." 

At  almost  any  other  time  he  would  have  been  glad  to 
see  Travers,  but  why  in  the  name  of  stupid  "Mis- 
chance" should  they  have  come  upon  one  another  just 


THE  DAYSMAN  55 

at  the  moment  when  he,  John  Treverin,  was  most  anx- 
ious to  avoid  persons  connected  with  his  recent  past — 
until  that  past  should  have  been  submerged  in  a  future 
of  personal  achievement.  To  obviate  explanations, 
therefore,  he  announced  somewhat  precipitately,  that 
he  had  business  in  the  "West  demanding  immediate  at- 
tention and  was  hastily  changing  the  subject  to  a  topic 
less  embarrassing  to  himself  when  Travers  interrupted 
to  ask. 

"What  part  of  the  West?  I'm  bound  for  Arizona 
myself,  with  a  couple  of  friends:  one  of  them,  an  Eng- 
lishman— younger  son — an  attache  of  the  British  lega- 
tion :  fine  fellow,  Lionel,  but  as  mum  as  an  oyster.  The 
other's  a  little  French  Count,  who  thinks  he  wants  to 
kill  big  game,  so  we're  off  for  the  'wild  and  wooly'  to- 
morrow, via  the  Southern  Pacific,  and  I  only  wish  you 
were  going  our  way." 

"It  looks  as  though  I  were,"  answered  Treverin 
calmly,  adapting  himself  to  the  necessity  of  circum- 
stances which  had  developed  through  the  conversation 
as  quickly  as  he  might  have  caught  a  ball  on  the  re- 
bound; "that  is,  if  you  are  booked  to  arrive  in  Tucson 
on  the  28th." 

"Just  my  bully  good  luck,"  cried  Travers  heartily. 
"Dine  with  us  to-night,  won't  you?  I'd  like  to  have 
you  meet  the  others  before  we  get  started."  And  with 
a  final  suggestion  as  to  their  rendezvous  the  irrepressi- 
ble one  was  gone,  leaving  young  Treverin  to  wonder 
that  two  years  in  diplomacy  should  have  brought  about 
so  little  change  apparently  in  the  volatile  character  of 
his  friend:  for  Robert  Travers,  as  yet  an  under-secre- 


56  THE  DAYSMAN 

tary  in  the  service,  made  no  secret  of  his  aspirations 
for  a  diplomatic  career. 

They  had  not  yet  finished  dinner  and  the  little  Count 
was  in  the  middle  of  a  thrilling  yarn  apropos  of  tiger 
hunting  in  India,  when  their  attention  was  suddenly 
drawn  to  a  table  in  the  far  corner  of  the  room,  about 
which  some  eight  or  ten  men  were  seated  and  where  it 
was  evident  that  a  sort  of  banquet  was  in  progress.  To 
Travers  and  to  Treverin,  placed  in  such  a  way  that 
they  could  take  in  the  situation  at  a  glance,  it  was  clear 
that  some  one  was  on  the  point  of  proposing  a  toast — a 
toast  which,  it  seemed  he  wished,  drunk  standing,  for 
there  was  the  hurried  pushing  back  of  chairs,  the  lift- 
ing of  glasses  on  high  and  above  the  varied  sound  of 
other  voices  and  the  humdrum  noises  of  the  room  they 
caught  the  movement  of  his  lips,  the  clear  articulation 
of  his  words.  What  he  said  was,  "To  Arizona!" 

"Shall  we  join?"  cried  Travers  impulsively;  and 
while  his  glance  included  the  two  foreigners  it  was  to- 
ward his  own  countryman  that  he  leaned.  Treverin 's 
response  came  without  hesitation,  but  in  his  voice  was 
the  slow  distinctness  of  an  echo  that,  born  in  far  dis- 
tant waves  of  sound,  vibrates  still  with  the  hidden  im- 
pulse of  first  emotions  and,  in  a  silence  almost  oppres- 
sive, the  impromptu  toast  was  drunk  "To  Arizona." 
It  was  one  of  those  tense  moments  that  may  have  a  signi- 
ficance far  deeper  than  that  apparent  on  the  surface, 
and  the  silent  Englishman,  Waldergrave,  spoke  first.  ' '  I 
did  not  quite  catch  the  point,  don't  you  know,  but  if 
the  cause  is  as  good  as  the  wine  one  need  not  press  the 
matter  of  its  origin,"  he  drawled. 


THE  DAYSMAN  57 

"Who  in  thunder  are  they,  anyway?"  questioned 
Travers,  with  interest,  but  Treverin  hardly  heard,  for 
with  sudden  attention  he  was  studying  the  profile  of  a 
man,  whose  full  face  turned  toward  him  for  one  fleet- 
ing moment  had  called  up  vague  recollections:  and, 
groping  blindly  along  the  keys  of  impression,  he  soon 
touched  the  vibrant  chords  of  memory  when,  suddenly, 
it  all  came  to  him  in  a  flash.  He  saw  the  little  town,  its 
main  street  stretching  hot  and  long  under  the  mid- 
summer sun  and  beneath  the  grateful  shade  of  a  huge 
cottonwood  tree,  in  the  plaza,  two  men  and  a  boy  had 
paused.  There  was  the  sound  of  hoofs  beating  upon 
the  road.  Nearer  and  nearer  they  came  until  at  length, 
out  of  a  cloud  of  dust,  there  appeared  four  coal-black 
stallions  with  flying  manes;  and  the  man  behind  them 
— the  charioteer  (for  the  gorgeous  trappings  of  the 
turn-out  and  the  dashing  appearance  of  its  handsome 
Jehu  made  "driver"  a  far  too  prosaic  description  of 
him  who  handled  the  lines  with  so  elaborate  a  flourish) 
— had  a  name  that  escaped  him  even  now,  but  he  re- 
called distinctly  that  Richard  Wood  had  told  how  this 
man,  with  the  fiery  steeds,  had  bought  the  "Bald 
Eagle,"  at  sheriff's  sale,  for  a  thousand  or  two,  at 
most. 

"There's  some  mining  swindle  in  his  head,  I'm 
afraid,"  added  Wood,  "and,  in  spite  of  his  vulgarity, 
the  man  has  a  certain  scintilating  flash  of  something 
that  looks  perilously  like  power  which  might  carry  him 
through  his  promoting  schemes,  but  the  trouble  is  he 
may  go  scot  free,  after  robbing  his  dupes  of  their  little 
all."  Then  the  quick  response  of  his  father  had  come, 


58  THE  DAYSMAN 

in  a  voice  that  the  boy  could  never  forget.  ' '  Such  men 
are  the  most  dangerous  enemies  of  the  Territory." 

And  so  it  was  that  John  Treverin,  before  going  to 
his  room  for  the  night,  glanced  casually  over  the  hotel 
register,  not  doubting  that  he  would  recognize  on  sight 
that  elusive  name  which  he  felt  sure  must  belong  with 
a  face  that  he  could  have  sworn  he  had  seen  before,  al- 
though he  confessed  to  himself  that  the  man  had  been 
"toned  down"  into  the  semblance  of  a  more  gentle- 
manly type  of  speculator  than  that  which  his  memory 
carried. 

He  was,  however,  on  the  point  of  turning  away,  at 
last,  with  the  uncomfortable  feeling  of  having  failed  in 
his  search,  when  he  heard  a  page,  who  had  just  come 
up  to  the  desk,  inform  the  night  clerk  that  Doctor  Fow- 
ler wasn't  in  his  room  and  he  couldn't  locate  the 
"gent"  anywhere." 

"Why,  he's  right  out  there  in  the  lobby,  stoopid — the 
tall  one  with  the  big  party  in  tow,  all  going  to  Arizona, 
I  bet,  for  he  was  asking  about  trains,  not  five  minutes 
ago,"  with  which  piece  of  gratuitous  information  cal- 
culated, evidently,  to  enhance  his  own  importance  with 
an  inferior,  the  busy  functionary  began  forthwith  to 
devote  his  attention  to  a  newly  arrived  guest,  and  Trev- 
erin turned  away  just  in  time  to  see  the  boy  hand  his 
telegram  to  a  large  man  with  keen  eyes,  which  were  re- 
markably alert — so  much  so,  indeed,  that  they  seemed 
to  be  constantly  on  guard — and  a  manner,  almost  ag- 
gressive in  its  assumption  of  sang-froid. 

Doctor  Fowler  (and  the  name  was  a  new  one  to 
Treverin),  being  at  the  moment  engaged  in  conversa- 


THE  DAYSMAN  59 

tion  with  a  thin,  active  little  man — who  bore  the  stamp 
of  pedagogue  strongly  upon  him  and  carried  about  that 
subtle  atmosphere  of  the  schoolroom,  which  is  proof  in- 
fallible of  an  evolution  from  that  earliest  pose  of  the 
disciplinarian — turned  with  a  start  as  the  page,  having 
made  several  vain  attempts  to  attract  his  attention, 
touched  him  lightly  on  the  arm,  and  then,  recovering 
himself  quickly,  with  a  word  of  apology  to  his  com- 
panion, commenced  the  perusal  of  a  message  which  ap- 
peared to  contain  good  news,  judging  from  the  satis- 
fied smile  that  illumined  his  countenance,  while  he  read. 
A  second  later,  as  Treverin  passed  the  group  on  his 
way  to  the  elevator,  he  caught  the  words:  "It's  from 
'Bald  Eagle,'  gentlemen;  they're  down  thirty-seven 
feet  in  solid  smelting  ore,  which  is  averaging  ten  per 
cent,  and  we're  still  in  it." 


60  THE  DAYSMAN 


CHAPTER  VI. 

All   that  glistens  is  not  gold, — 
Often  have  you  heard  that  told : 
Many  a   man  his  life  hath  sold, 
But  my  outside  to  behold: 
Gilded  tombs  do   worms  enfold. 
Had  you  been  as  wise  as  bold, 
Young  in  limbs,  in  judgment  old, 
Your   answer   had    not   been    inscroll'd. 

On  the  banks  of  one  of  those  shallow  streams  which 
are  born  in  the  coolness  of  mountain  solitudes  and  flow 
for  half  a  hundred  miles  or  more  between  tall  grasses 
and  noble  cottonwoods — themselves  the  source  of  this 
verdant  life — to  vanish  at  length  amid  desert  wastes, 
submerged  in  a  sea  of  drifting  sands :  on  the  banks  (in 
other  words)  of  such  a  stream  as  one  might  find,  to- 
day, in  Arizona  there  was,  in  the  spring  of  'ninety-two, 
a  deserted  village  called  Sunshine. 

One  of  those  ephemeral  mining  camps  which  came 
into  existence  in  the  early  'seventies,  when  only  the 
highest  grades  of  ore  could  be  profitably  mined,  Sun- 
shine was  rehabilitated  and  its  mines  worked  success- 
fully in  the  'eighties,  for  the  coming  of  the  railroad 
promised  larger  returns  than  could  have  been  expected 
in  days  when  oxen  teams  and  Missouri  mules  towed, 
across  the  desert,  their  heavy  cargoes  of  freight.  It 
was  then  that  tradesmen  had  deserted  older  and  more 


THE  DAYSMAN  61 

settled  communities  to  flock  to  Sunshine  and  add  their 
quota  in  the  making  of  a  perfectly  appointed  town, 
whose  broad  streets  were  flanked  by  substantial  one  and 
two-story  buildings,  among  which  the  hotel  and  the 
store  predominated  even  over  the  ubiquitous  saloon. 

But  with  the  exhaustion  of  its  big  paying  ore  bodies 
came  the  decline  of  the  booming  camp,  and  at  length 
there  arrived  a  day  when  orders  were  received  by  the 
local  managers  to  close  the  works  of  the  three  big  min- 
ing concerns  which  were  operating  there. 

Merchants  rushing  hither  and  thither  to  secure  teams 
had  their  stock  loaded  on  wagons  within  a  few  hours  of 
the  fatal  decree  and,  with  the  haste  of  rats  fleeing 
from  a  sinking  ship,  such  inhabitants  as  remained  soon 
followed,  leaving  a  single  watchman  to  stand  guard 
over  the  little  city  which  men  had  abandoned  to  the 
prairie  dog  and  the  mountain  owl. 

Whether  or  not  Sunshine,  which  had  come  to  be  re- 
garded as  too  poor  for  profit  had  inherently  the  making 
of  one  of  those  ideal  mining  properties  from  which, 
through  the  extensive  operation  of  low  grade  deposits, 
it  has  been  found  possible  to  extract  great  values  by 
means  of  the  beneficiation  of  ores,  it  is  not  our  province 
to  relate.  Suffice  it  to  say  that,  in  the  beginning  of  a 
decade,  which  brought  about  those  striking  changes  in 
treatment  and  handling,  that  constant  improvement  in 
machinery  and  method  which  have  revolutionized  min- 
ing, Sunshine  lay  dreaming  of  a  dazzling  past  in  the 
fear  of  awaking  to  a  problematical  future.  And,  less 
than  five  years  before  this  crisis  in  its  existence,  one  of 
the  mines  had  changed  hands,  coming  into  the  posses- 


62  THE  DAYSMAN 

sion  of  a  man  who,  while  he  might  lack  the  inclination 
to  inquire  into  its  capacity  for  legitimate  development, 
realized,  at  least,  that  "The  Bald  Eagle"  possessed 
qualities  sufficiently  attractive  for  exploitation,  and  it 
was  along  these  lines,  therefore,  that  he  set  himself  to 
study  its  possibilities,  with  an  assiduity  worthy  of  a 
better  cause.  *  *  * 

The  month  was  April,  the  hour,  sunset,  and  as  a 
solitary  horseman  approached  the  town  from  the  South 
he  experienced  that  odd  sensation  of  loneliness,  such 
as  comes  to  one  in  the  presence  of  death,  mingled  with 
another  feeling,  more  uncanny,  which  it  was  impos- 
sible to  shake  off :  a  sort  of  weird  expectancy  as  of  one 
listening  in  the  midst  of  a  profound  silence  for  the  res- 
urrection of  sound. 

At  the  end  of  the  road,  in  the  distance,  one  caught 
a  fleeting  glimpse  of  the  little  settlement,  its  windows 
illumined  by  the  red  glory  of  the  setting  sun  and  in- 
stinctively the  horse  quickened  his  pace  in  anticipation 
of  his  own  counterpart  to  the  bed  and  the  warm  meal 
which  without  doubt  awaited  his  rider.  But  no  sound 
was  heard  as  they  entered  the  village  save  the  echo  of 
solitary  hoof  beats  on  the  hard  smoothness  of  a  desert- 
ed street  that  led  past  vacant  houses,  from  whose  chim- 
neys there  issued  no  welcome  smoke:  not  even  the 
warning  bark  of  a  dog  disturbed  the  quiet  air,  nor  did 
any  soul  come  forth  to  greet  them  from  one  of  the  half 
a  dozen  hotels  whose  barred  doors  hinted  at  the  van- 
quished hopes  and  forgotten  glories  of  other  days  when 
there  was  not  this  haunting  and  melancholy  resem- 
blance to  the  silence  of  a  lonely  graveyard. 


THE  DAYSMAN  63 

They  had  almost  reached  the  end  of  the  street  when 
the  horse  was  brought  to  a  sudden  halt  in  front  of  a 
saloon,  whose  windows  displayed  with  the  usual  articles 
employed  for  such  purpose  the  grim  hideousness  of  a 
stuffed  gila  monster,  some  skins  and  dried  rattles  of 
several  species  of  snake,  together  with  a  forbidding 
looking  tarantula  and  several  harmless  centipedes  pre- 
served in  alcohol.  There  was  a  fine  irony  about  the  lit- 
tle collection  of  curios  which  had  been  gathered,  no 
doubt,  to  stimulate  popular  interest  in  the  marvels  of 
the  country  and  had  themselves  become  the  incurious 
guardians  of  a  ghostly  solitude.  But  any  such  signifi- 
cance was  lost  upon  the  man  who  had  dismounted  and 
was  fitting  a  key  into  the  dusty  lock  that  had  not  been 
turned  since  the  day  when  (the  house  having  set  up  the 
last  round  of  drinks)  coats  and  hats  were  hastily 
donned,  front  doors  closed  and  the  one-time  dealer, 
with  his  liquid  stock,  had  hied  him  away  to  fresh  pas- 
tures. At  length,  with  a  grating  sound,  the  key  turned 
and  a  heavy  door  swung  on  its  creaking  hinges,  reveal- 
ing an  interior  which  had  expressed  the  last  word  in 
elegance  to  convivial  Sunshine.  An  ornate  mirror  of 
huge  proportions  standing  against  the  wall  reflected 
bottles  on  shelves,  jugs  and  demijohns  in  place,  glasses 
behind  the  bar  and  the  cheerless  emptiness  of  a  large 
room  wherein  vacant  chairs  and  tables  were  strewn 
about  in  gloomy  disarray. 

For  a  moment,  the  place  belonged  to  the  visitor,  who 
paused  staring  about  him  with  a  comprehensive  glance 
that  seemed  to  include  a  host  and  guests  where  there 
were  none,  and  then — having  caught  the  sound  of  a 


64  THE  DAYSMAN 

light,  firm  step  on  the  stair,  he  seated  himself  to  await 
its  rapid  approach. 

The  person  whose  entrance  had  been  thus  heralded 
was  a  hollow-eyed  man  of  shabby  appearance,  who  still 
bore  about  him  the  evidence  of  having  seen  better  days. 
His  linen,  though  frayed,  showed  an  exquisite  fineness 
of  quality,  which  might  have  been  attributed  to  chance 
had  it  not  been  for  certain  accompanying  graces  of 
manner  such  as  could  have  come  to  him  only  through 
the  more  definite  channels  of  taste.  In  other  words, 
Captain  Minturn,  though  battered  and  worn  out  of  all 
semblance  to  his  former  self,  carried  still  those  unmis- 
takable traits  of  the  gentleman  which  are  not  to  be 
eradicated  (once  they  have  been  implanted),  even 
though  their  first  fine  flowering  may  have  given  place 
to  the  rank  seed-bearing  blossoms  of  an  inglorious  af- 
termath. 

"Well,  Captain,  how  goes  the  world  and  Sunshine?" 
It  was  the  man  just  arrived  who  spoke,  first,  with  the 
jovial  familiarity  of  one  who  recognizes  no  reserves  in 
another  which  he  would  be  incapable  of  feeling  himself. 

"I  can't  say  much  about  the  world,  Doctor  Fowler, 
but  Sunshine  is  resting,  sir,  resting." 

"And  what  would  you  think,  Captain  Minturn, 
about  our  waking  the  old  town  up?" 

"I  should  say  that  it  is  what  I've  been  watching  for 
during  the  past  seven  years." 

"Then  your  faith  in  the  mines  is  as  strong  as  ever?" 
The  man  called  Fowler,  who  had  been  watching  his 
companion  narrowly,  was  at  length  rewarded  by  a  de- 
cided gleam  of  interest. 


THE  DAYSMAN  65 

"I  believe,  sir,  that  there  is  a  fortune  in  this  prop- 
erty, but  it  will  require  some  years  of  time  to  prove  it 
and  a  cost  proportionately  great  with  its  reward.  The 
trouble  so  far  has  been  more  hope  than  money  and  a 
man  might  just  as  well  understand  first  as  last  that  to 
come  in  here  expecting  to  make  a  mine  with  only  a  few 
thousand  dollars  in  his  pocket  would  be  an  investment 
too  risky  to  be  called  safe.  This  is  a  wonderful  age, 
sir,  a  wonderful  age,  and  mining  is  keeping  pace  with 
its  commercial  and  scientific  development.  The  prac- 
tical application  of  new  processes  is  making  it  possible 
to  treat  with  profit  such  low  grade  ores  as  we  would  not 
have  dreamed  of  bothering  about  less  than  a  decade 
ago,  and  this  property  has  been  carefully  tested,  sir.  We 
are  surrounded  by  some  of  the  most  inviting  fields  in 
the  Southwest,  and  I  verily  believe  that  the  ground  un- 
derneath us  contains  undeveloped  millions  of  wealth." 

There  was  the  eloquence  of  conviction  in  his  tone, 
but,  as  the  Captain  paused,  Fowler,  having  no  taste  for 
the  dreams  of  a  visionary  (who  was  said  to  have  staked 
and  lost  his  all  in  these  very  mines),  excepting  in  so 
far  as  they  might  be  made  subservient  to  his  own  more 
practicable  schemes,  interpolated  the  question — "With 
how  small  a  capital  would  it  look  safe  to  make  a  be- 
ginning?" 

Minturn  considered  a  moment  before  replying  and 
then  mentioned  an  amount  so  large  that  even  Fowler 
was  amazed.  "I  mean,"  added  the  Captain,  by  way  of 
explanation,  for  he  had  taken  the  question  at  its  sur- 
face value,  "that  it  would  not  be  safe  to  start  with  less, 
no  matter  how  it  might  look." 


66  THE  DAYSMAN 

"But,"  'Bald  Eagle'  is  no  undeveloped  prospect:  it, 
at  least,  has  a  record  as  a  dividend  payer  which  has 
not  yet  been  completely  effaced  from  the  memory  of  the 
public."  In  his  eagerness,  the  man  who  called  himself 
Fowler  was  arguing  entirely  from  his  own  point  of 
view. 

"You  forget,  sir,  that  before  suspending  operations 
and  abandoning  the  mine,  the  former  company  could 
not  make  expenses.  We  won  our  reputation  on  a  vein 
of  mineralized  ore,  which  was  self-fluxing  and  could 
be  converted  into  black  copper  by  one  simple  smelt- 
ing operation,  but  that  was  exhausted  long  before 
we  shut  down,  and  now ' ' — he  finished  slowly,  with 
the  earnestness  of  one  who  has  come  to  realize  a  cer- 
tain tragic  significance  in  facts — "our  only  hope  is 
in  complete  reconstruction,  in  the  installation  of  an 
equipment  whereby  we  may  be  adequate  to  handle 
vast  deposits  of  low-grade  ore.  There  are  immense 
possibilities  in  copper,  sir,  of  which  this  generation 
has  hardly  conceived,  and  I  should  not  be  surprised 
to  see  the  day  arrive  when  two  and  one-half  per 
cent,  ore  may  be  treated  with  profit,  but  there  is  truth 
in  the  adage  that  'it  takes  a  mine  to  make  a  mine'  of 
that  sort  and  it  takes  patience  as  well."  Captain  Min- 
turn  had  a  voice  so  musical  that  it  raised  the  simple 
gift  of  speech  to  the  higher  level  of  a  fine  art,  and  this 
quality  of  euphony  was  enhanced  by  a  pronunciation 
characteristic  of  certain  sections  of  the  Southeast, 
where  the  habit  of  gliding  lightly  over  one's  r's,  and 
of  giving  to  vowel  sounds  their  full  quantity,  endows 
the  language  with  an  exactness  and  melody,  a  smooth- 


THE  DAYSMAN  67 

ness  and  harmony,  rarely  found  elsewhere  and  so  diffi- 
cult to  describe  that  many  of  those  who  attempt  it,  too 
often  succeed,  only,  .in  producing  degenerate  dialects 
wherein  the  individuality  of  the  cultivated  is  carica- 
tured to  the  point  of  provincialism. 

Fowler,  who  had  been  listening  intently  to  such 
phrases  as  one  might  utilize  in  a  prospectus,  laughed 
sceptically  at  the  prohetic  glimpse  into  a  future  too  re- 
mote to  make  a  definite  appeal  to  his  own  ambitions. 
He  was  the  type  of  man  to  whom  the  construction  of  a 
lie  was  possible  only  through  his  perception  of  some 
corresponding  principle  of  truth.  In  other  words,  he 
was  one  of  those  plausible  scoundrels  whose  specious 
arguments  would  have  to  be  sufficiently  convincing  to 
run  the  gauntlet  of  his  own  suspicions  before  he  could 
undertake  to  employ  them  upon  others,  and  hence  his 
maneuvers  to  enlist  in  his  enterprise  a  man  whose  un- 
derstanding of  the  property  and  its  needs  was  unques- 
tioned. It  was  his  intention  to  take  Minturn  into  his 
confidence  as  far  as  he  could  do  so  with  safety,  and 
therefore  he  proceeded  to  map  out  his  plan  with  in- 
genious candor. 

"My  idea  would  be  to  recapitalize  for  a  million — giv- 
ing the  stock  a  par  value  of  ten  dollars — setting 
aside  eighty  thousand  shares  of  this  for  development, 
if  a  majority  of  the  stockholders  consent  to  the  plan  in 
consideration  of  a  contract  on  my — on  the  part  of  the 
company  to  finance  and  conduct  the  future  operations 
of  the  mine.  It  might  give  us  a  good  start  to  bring  a 
few  men  out  here  to  look  about  the  place  and  talk  over 
details  with  you;  we  might  thus  succeed  in  arousing 


68  THE  DAYSMAN 

an  interest  that  would  keep  things  going  and  make  a 
big  thing  out  of  the  mine.  In  the  meantime  what  do 
you  think  of  our  setting  a  few  men  to  work  so  the  place 
won't  look  quite  so  dead;  it  gives  a  man  the  blues,  at 
sight,  and" — he  waited  a  moment,  considering — "first 
impressions  have  their  value,  you  know." 

Captain  Minturn's  manner  was  thoughtful.  "Yes," 
he  said  slowly,  "there  is  certain  work  that  might  be 
legitimately  begun,  as  soon  as  we  have  the  assurance 
of  sufficient  capital,  but  I've  grown  conservative,  Doc- 
tor, about  going  ahead  too  fast.  You  see  I've  had  my 
own  experience" — there  was  a  note  of  apology  in  his 
voice  for  the  necessity  of  introducing  a  personal  ele- 
ment into  conversation  of  a  purely  business  character. 
He  hesitated  a  moment  and  then — "We  had  been  run- 
ning for  months  at  a  loss  and  there  came  a  day  when 
the  men  tried  to  seize  both  ore  and  engines,  which  were 
guarded  at  the  point  of  a  pistol,  until  we  could  market 
what  we  had  and  pay  them  the  amount  which  they  had 
agreed  to  take."  He  shivered  slightly  as  brave  men 
will  at  the  recollection  of  defeat,  even  though  they  may 
have  fought  valiantly  against  heavy  odds — then,  with  a 
rueful  smile,  "one  would  hardly  care  to  go  through  a 
scene  like  that  again." 

"But  pardon  me,  Doctor,"  he  added,  changing  the 
subject  with  the  quick  courtesy  of  a  thoughtful  host, 
"you  must  be  tired;  I  had  forgotten  the  hour.  Dum- 
ford  shall  prepare  something  to  eat  at  once  and  later 
look  after  your  horse.  We  had  better  leave  the  inspec- 
tion of  the  mine  until  to-morrow,  for,  as  you  will  re- 
member, things  are  pretty  well  locked  up— the  tunnels 


THE  DAYSMAN  69 

barred  by  doors,  and  so  forth.  It  is  also  too  nearly 
dark  to  refresh  your  mind  as  to  locations,  for  of  course 
you  will  want  to  look  the  place  over  while  you  are  here 
and  decide  where  to  build  the  reduction  plant.  I  can 
probably  give  you  enough  statistics,  however,  to  keep  us 
busy  to-night  and  in  the  morning" — 

"It  will  be  impssible,"  Fowler  interrupted,  "for  me 
to  remain  more  than  an  hour  or  two.  There  is  a  full 
moon  at  ten  o'clock.  Dummy  can  give  me  a  bite  and 
then  I  shall  ride  across  the  valley,  if  he  can  let  me  have 
a  fresh  horse — mine  is  too  tired  to  make  time  and  I 
must  catch  an  Eastbound  train,  without  fail,  to- 
morrow. ' ' 

Fowler's  interest  in  and  knowledge  of  the  property 
itself  seemed  so  strikingly  deficient  when  compared 
with  his  enthusiastic  plans  for  its  development  that 
there  was  aroused  even  in  Minturn's  mind  a  vague 
though  momentary  uneasiness.  "Could  this  man  be 
capable  of  carrying  to  success  an  enterprise  whose  slow 
germination  had  occupied  his  own  brain  for  years?" 
he  asked  himself  doubtingly.  There  was  little  time  for 
reflection,  however,  as  the  Doctor,  whose  energies  seemed 
to  require  constant  stimulation,  began  forthwith  to 
plan  the  restoration  of  the  principal  stores,  as  well  as 
that  of  the  most  important  hotel,  not  omitting  to  draw 
a  glowing  picture  of  the  rejuvenation  of  this  very  sa- 
loon, whose  upper  floor  had  been  selected  as  Minturn's 
headquarters  because  of  its  being  the  most  habitable 
place  in  Sunshine. 

The  man  referred  to  as  Dummy,  who  was  laying  a 
table  in  the  far  corner  of  the  room,  with  a  dexterity 


70  THE  DAYSMAN 

and  swiftness  that  would  have  seemed  remarkable, 
even  had  one  failed  to  notice  the  absence  of  a  thumb 
and  three  fingers  from  his  right  hand,  appeared  to  be 
especially  interested  in  the  conversation,  at  this  point, 
for  Dummy  as  watchman  and  guardian  had  grown  to 
feel  a  sense  of  proprietorship  in  the  emptiness  of  Sun- 
shine that  made  him  peculiarly  sensitive  to  any  sugges- 
tions as  to  its  future. 

Dummy  remembered  the  town  in  all  its  pristine 
glory.  He  was  moreover  the  only  man  who  had  profited 
by  its  downfall,  when  as  barman  in  the  Minerva  Saloon 
(over  which  he  now  ruled  in  the  double  capacity  of 
host  and  cook)  he  had  bought  the  building  about  to  be 
abandoned,  for  a  nominal  sum,  at  a  moment  when  its 
one-time  owner  considered  himself  particularly  fortu- 
nate in  being  able  to  make  "any  sale  at  all." 

Squat,  low-browed,  with  coarse,  black  hair  and  shift- 
ing eyes,  Dummy  was  not  exactly  the  sort  of  person  to 
inspire  confidence,  at  sight,  and  yet  singularly  enough 
the  mysterious  disappearance  of  such  valuables  as  had 
been  left  behind  in  the  general  hegira  had  never  been 
laid  at  his  door.  His  newly  acquired  interest  as  a 
property  owner  had  seemed  sufficient  explanation  of 
his  willingness  to  remain  and,  since  it  was  not  an  easy 
matter  to  fill  a  position  which  demanded  almost  com- 
plete isolation  from  one's  fellow-beings,  Dummy's  ap- 
plication had  been  immediately  accepted  by  the  former 
owners  of  the  property. 

Moreover,  Dummy  had  certain  innocent  and  human- 
izing ambitions  which  were  ingratiating  because  of 
their  appeal  to  an  average  sense  of  humor.  His  pur- 


THE    DAYSMAN  71 

chase  of  an  antiquated  carry-all,  for  instance,  resplen- 
dent in  red  paint  and  gorgeous  upholstery  with  his 
first  earnings,  laboriously  saved,  had  been  the  standing 
joke  of  Sunshine  (whose  ramifications  extending  over 
the  sides  and  tops  of  the  mountains  afforded  small  op- 
portunity for  the  display  of  state-vehicles)  ;  and  after 
several  vain  attempts  to  press  it  into  service  as  a  sort 
of  stage  running  between  Sunshine  and  the  railroad 
junction  the  ornate  carry-all  had  been  relegated  to  the 
barn  and  a  state  of  innocuous  desuetude  where  its  repu- 
tation as  an  interesting  antiquity  was  enhanced  by  a 
popular  enthusiasm  which  had  been  conspicuously  lack- 
ing on  those  few  occasions  when  certain  adventurous 
spirits,  having  essayed  to  enjoy  the  sensation  of  jolting 
in  a  doubtful  grandeur  over  rough  roads,  had  ended 
by  anathematizing  every  other  means  of  locomotion 
than  that  offered  by  the  recalcitrant  burro  or  a  buck- 
ing broncho. 

Both  Dummy  and  Captain  Minturn  (who  was  known 
to  have  had  a  large  interest  in  the  company  that  had 
formerly  owned  and  operated  the  mines)  had  been  re- 
tained by  Fowler,  after  his  purchase  of  the  "Bald 
Eagle,"  the  former  because  of  his  actual  value  in  ser- 
vice, the  latter  because  of  a  knowledge  of  the  property 
(to  which  he  clung  with  a  tenacious  faith  that  was,  per- 
haps, the  last  anchor  in  a  life  otherwise  hopelessly 
drifting)  that,  the  wily  doctor  argued,  might  some- 
time prove  useful.  And,  while  Fowler  (possessed  of 
an  understanding  sufficiently  acute  to  enable  him  to 
distinguish  between  things  which  differ)  imagined  that 
Dummy  might  prove  to  be  a  valuable  assistant  in  cer- 


72  THE  DAYSMAN 

tain  devious  ways,  he  was  not  unwilling  to  have  him 
under  the  indirect  surveillance  of  a  man  whose  honesty 
of  purpose  was  beyond  question,  although  he  realized 
that  Minturn  nominally  in  charge  of  the  property — 
was  to  be  found  in  Sunshine  only  on  those  infrequent 
occasions  when  his  presence  was  required  in  that  section 
of  the  Territory,  on  his  own  business. 

The  Captain  was  a  man  who  had  acquired  holdings 
ef  some  value  in  the  Southwest  apart  from  those  min- 
ing ventures  which  without  yet  proving  fortunate  had 
so  far  swallowed  up  all  his  available  capital.  Left  an 
orphan  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  with  large  estates  not  far 
from  Mason  and  Dixon's  line,  Charlton  Minturn  had 
gone  just  prior  to  the  Civil  War  to  visit  a  relative  liv- 
ing in  Texas,  and  while  there,  at  the  beginning  of  hos- 
tilities was  fired  by  a  sudden  ambition  to  join  the 
Southern  army.  Whereupon  his  guardian,  fearing  the 
effect  of  opposition  upon  a  nature  both  wild  and  reck- 
less, had  adopted  the  plan  of  curbing  an  impulse 
through  a  compromise,  with  the  result  that  the  sur- 
prised youth  was  permitted,  nay,  even  urged,  to  accom- 
pany Captain  Hunter  and  his  Texas  troops  upon  their 
mission  of  conquest  into  Arizona,  and  thus  it  happened 
that,  in  a  private  capacity,  as  soldier  of  fortune,  the 
boy  had  lived  under  the  stars  and  bars  during  three 
thrilling  months  in  old  Tucson.  There,  in  the  untram- 
meled  freedom  of  broad  spaces  where  the  almost  daily 
conquest  of  the  savage  and  the  wilderness  strength- 
ened the  primal  bonds  of  blood  and  of  race  (through 
the  white  man's  struggle  with  a  common  foe) — the 
Confederate  Greys  had  been  accorded  the  same  eager 


THE    DAYSMAN  ?3 

welcome  that  was  extended,  later,  to  California  Blues, 
and  young  Minturn  (removed  from  the  direct  influen- 
ces of  partisan  politics),  with  slight  conception  of  the 
bigness  of  the  original  issues,  no  longer  felt  that  eager 
lust  for  battle  which  had  distinguished  his  first  en- 
thusiasm for  conflict  in  which  he  had  chosen  sides  from 
the  Quixotic  impulse  of  the  self-appointed  champion 
rather  than  from  any  deep-rooted  conviction. 

When  the  war — in  which  had  died  so  much  of  the 
chivalry  of  a  by-gone  era — was  over,  the  boy,  undis- 
ciplined and  lacking  the  patience  and  strength  to  cope 
with  changed  conditions  at  home,  where  life  had  come 
to  mean  either  an  heroic  effort  to  withstand  petty  ty- 
rannies or  a  passive  submission  to  a  multiplicity  of  tri- 
vial irritations,  had  thrown  off  the  galling  yoke  of  an 
unwelcome  responsibility  and  with  the  fighting  princi- 
ple strong  within  him,  had  withdrawn  from  the  mael- 
strom of  reconstruction,  a  rebel  still,  at  heart,  against 
all  forms  of  ill-advised  paternalism. 

Whether  it  was  the  accidental  impulse  of  an  insati- 
able "wanderlust"  or  a  more  prophetic  instinct  that 
directed  his  inclination  toward  that  part  of  the  South- 
west reserved  by  the  Fates  as  the  last  stronghold  of 
sectional  individualism,  Captain  Minturn  himself  would 
have  been  unable  to  tell,  because,  as  yet,  that  final  strug- 
gle for  the  maintenance  of  Territorial  rights  against 
legislative  coercion  had  hardly  begun;  and,  therefore, 
to  all  intents  and  purposes  the  original  motives  of  the 
honest  Captain  in  coming  to  Arizona  might  have  been 
as  palpably  those  of  the  self-interested  seeker  of  his 
own  fortune  as  were  the  expressed  reasons  of — Dummy, 
for  instance. 


74  THE  DAYSMAN 

The  last  named  individual,  whom  we  left,  by  the 
way,  in  a  corner  of  the  Minerva  Saloon,  at  Sunshine, 
ostensibly  engaged  in  the  simple  ceremony  of  laying 
a  table,  but  in  reality  absorbed  in  the  more  complicated 
task  of  trying  to  fathom  the  mental  processes  of  Fow- 
ler— started  slightly  when  the  Doctor,  turning  sudden- 
ly, addressed  him  by  name. 

"You  here,  Dummy?  Well,  no  matter,  and  what 
does  mein  host  think  of  the  prospect  of  a  patronage 
surpassing  the  wildest  dreams  of  Sunshine  in  its  palmy 
days?" 

Dummy's  manner  was  gloomy,  his  tone  surly.  He 
resented  the  Doctor's  assumption  that  he,  Dummy,  was 
dull,  because  he  could  not  reply  in  glittering  generali- 
ties. "Dunno,"  he  muttered,  "unless  it's  a  sure  thing, 
I  guess  't  wouldn't  pay  to  stock  up." 

"But  you've  got  to  stock  up,  man,"  cried  the  Doc- 
tor, striding  up  and  down  the  room  impatiently, 
"there's  no  surer  way  to  squelch  a  booming  town  than 
to  ignore  the  existence  of  its  mighty  thirst." 

"Yet  /  don't  start  without  a  guarantee."  Dummy's 
stubbornness  increased  in  inverse  proportion  to  the 
Doctor's  eagerness. 

"A  guarantee  of  what,  you  f ?"  the  Doctor 

caught  himself  just  in  time. 

"Why — a  guarantee  that  this  here  talk  of  resumin' 
ain't  all  goin'  up  in  smoke,  that  it's  not  to  end  like  any 
other  durned  flash  in  the  pan."  Dummy  possessed,  at 
any  rate,  the  power  of  making  himself  understood. 

"Ill  talk  it  over  with  you  later,  Dummy,"  the  Doc- 
tor's manner  was  calculated  to  pacify  his  tone  to  warn, 


THE    DAYSMAN  75 

"but,"  with  a  triumphant  glance  into  the  doubting  eyes 
of  this  first  questioner  as  to  his  motives  regarding  the 
"Bald  Eagle,"  "the  fact  that  Captain  Minturn  is  en- 
tering into  the  plan  surely  ought  to  satisfy  you." 

Was  there  a  suggestion  of  contemptuous  superiority 
in  the  Doctor's  emphasis  on  the  final  word?  Dummy, 
"thick-headed  one's"  reply;  he  might  even  have  de- 
imagining  as  much,  was  not  deceived  by  his  sauvity  of 
manner  and  had  Fowler  been  less  engrossed  in  his  own 
affairs  he  might  have  scented  a  note  of  danger  in  the 
tected  a  hidden  meaning,  the  lurking  possibility  of  some 
venomous  sting.  "Oh,  there's  nothin'  wrong  with  the 
Captain-,  he's  all  right."  Dummy  could  be  emphatic  as 
well  as  another  and  there  was  a  certain  grim  satisfac- 
tion in  the  sardonic  smile  with  which  he  left  the  room. 
Not,  however,  until  he  had  reached  the  seclusion  of 
his  own  kitchen,  did  he  add  softly  to  himself:  "The 
Captain  ain't  posin'  under  no  false  name,  at  which 
I've  often  wondered,  but  now  I'm  beginnin'  to  see  a 
light."  With  which  rather  equivocal  remark  Dummy's 
comments  ended. 

Some  weeks  later  a  prominent  New  York  daily,  in  a 
somewhat  facetious  vein,  announced  the  advent  of  a 
new  mining  company,  under  the  following  headlines: 
"Well-known  Arizona  Mine  to  Resume.  Conservative 
Management  Explains  Many  Things.  If  Copper 
Isn't  There,  Where  Is  It?"  The  article  went  on  to  say 
how  the  ultra-conservative  majority  in  Wall  Street, 
"which  refuses  to  accept  with  the  prospectus-devour- 
ing public  the  roseate  tales  from  Western  mining 
camps,  was  rudely  shocked  the  other  day,  to  learn  that 


76  THE  DAYSMAN 

a  very  old  mine,  which  couldn't  make  expenses  at  the 
time  of  its  abandonment  some  years  ago,  was  about  to 
resume  under  a  new  management,  having  recapitalized 
for  a  paltry  million,  the  securities  evolved  from  the 
magic  process  to  consist  of  one  hundred  thousand 
shares  of  the  par  value  of  ten  dollars  each.  The  an- 
nouncement of  this  bonanza  prospect  was  put  out  by 
one  of  the  news  agencies  in  this  form: 

"  'Tentative  plans  of  the  Bald  Eagle  Mining  Com- 
pany have  been  received  by  the  banking  firm  of  Fowler 

&  Co.,  at  Wall  Street,  which  is  just  moving  its 

luxurious  offices  to  the  Building,  indicating  the 

reorganiaztion  of  the  said  mining  company  whose  stocks 
will,  it  is  confidently  stated,  be  selling  above  par  with- 
in six  months  after  the  completion  of  the  big  reduc- 
tion plant,  now  contemplated,  and  the  installation  of 
more  modern  machinery. 

"  'The  early  development  of  the  mine,  as  is  already 
well  known,  was  too  brilliantly  superficial,  but  it  is  now 
believed  that,  with  an  adequate  equipment  extensive 
work  will  be  justified  and  a  great  body  of  ore  opened 
up  for  treatment.' 

"Arizona  mining  stocks  are  attracting  much  atten- 
tion these  days,  and  it  is  understood  that  the  President 
of  one  of  the  big  New  York  banks  is  interested  in  the 
syndicate  which  has  purchased  the  once-famous  mine — 
his  name,  at  least,  has  been  harnessed  in  market  gossip 
to  the  property  which  is  so  soon  to  be  taking  fortunes 
out  of  the  ground,  and  he  is  quoted  as  saying  (whether 
in  reference  to  the  Bald  Eagle  or  not  is  hardly  clear) 
that,  as  if  to  wreak  poetic  justice  upon  those  who  so 


THE    DAYSMAN  77 

lightly  abandoned  the  property,  'this  long  deserted 
hole  in  the  ground  will  turn  out  to  be  a  big  mine  after 
all.' 

"Doctor  Fowler,  in  his  office  in  the  Building, 

had  any  amount  of  information  at  his  fingers'  ends,  in 
reference  to  the  prospects  of  the  mine  which  has  paid 
nothing  for  years,  'because  of  its  having  been  shut 
down' — a  circumstance  ascribed  to  litigation,  the  ex- 
act nature  of  which  is  unexplained,  'but  the  stuff  is  in 
it  for  all  that,'  and  the  stock  has  been  put  up  gradu- 
ally until  yesterday  the  market  quoted  by  Doctor  Fow- 
ler made  it  ten  dollars  a  share;  hence  the  one  million 
dollar  valuation."  *  *  *  Much  of  which  glowing  in- 
formation was  imparted  to  Travers,  en  route  for  Tucson 
by  a  whilom  schoolmate,  named  Beverly,  who  had 
joined  Fowler's  rapidly  growing  party  somewhere  west 
of  Chicago. 

Beverly,  at  that  time  a  politician  in  embyro,  had  not 
yet  discovered  the  inclination  of  his  own  ambitions 
which,  however,  were  wavering  with  the  constancy  of 
the  magnetic  needle  toward  a  guiding  star  called  Fame. 
Already,  indeed,  he  felt  the  attractive  influences  of 
that  national  reputation  which,  in  some  sort,  he  meant 
to  achieve;  he  rather  thought  that  he  fancied  the  altru- 
istic pose  of  an  impecunious  statesman  crowned  with  a 
wealth  of  honors  and  yet — one  never  ever  knew;  there 
was  not  a  little  public  esteem  to  be  derived  along  phi- 
lanthropic lines,  at  least  where  was  the  harm  in  amass- 
ing a  fortune  as  a  mere  side  issue?  And  Beverly,  rea- 
soning thus,  had  been  "caught  in  the  snare  of  the  Fow- 
ler," as  Travers  put  it,  when  Treverin  expressed,  some- 


78  THE  DAYSMAN 

what  tentatively,  his  private  doubts  of  the  astute  Doc- 
tor to  that  budding  diplomat. 

"No  use,  Jack,"  finished  Travers,  finally,  "I  couldn't 
warn  Clarence  Beverly  if  I  tried;  he's  such  an 
ass  that  he'd  want  me  to  prove  my  assertions,  and  we 
haven't  any  documentary  evidence  to  show  against 
this  'blooming  mining  scheme/  as  his  lordship  calls 
it.  Too  bad,  I  agree;  for  I'm  morally  sure  you're 
right,  and  I  feel  a  sneaking  sympathy  for  that  fiery 
little  Shotwell  from  Illinois — irascible  and  peppery,  he 
may  be,  but  honest,  I'll  be  bound,  and  investing  his 
last  red,  if  I'm  not  mistaken." 

"It  would  be  amusing  if  it  were  not  too  pitiful  to 
see  the  sphinx-like  wisdom  with  which  they  handle 
those  samples  of  ore.  Where  they  came  from  heaven 
only  knows,  but  I'd  be  willing  to  wager  a  good  deal 
that  Bald  Eagle  has  not  produced  anything  so  rich  for 
years."  With  which  final  admonition  Treverin  relieved 
his  conscience  of  a  responsibility  that  was  hardly  his 
affair  after  all,  he  told  himself. 

Nevertheless  he  could  not  get  free  of  a  keen  interest 

in  the  fate  of  the  party  which  left  their  train  at 

Junction  where  it  was  met  by  a  string  of  heterogenious 
conveyances  among  which  an  antiquated  carry-all  at- 
tracted Treverin 's  eye  to  its  driver,  who  seemed  par- 
ticularly eager  for  a  word  with  Fowler  and,  as  that 
worthy,  after  having  safely  bestowed  his  many  guests, 
stood  watching  the  departure  of  the  last  stage  load,  his 
attention,  about  to  be  directed  to  his  own  mount,  was 
sharply  recalled  to  the  man  at  his  elbow. 

"Well,  what  now,  Dummy?"  he  demanded,  with 
some  impatience. 


THE   DAYSMAN  79 

"Oh,  nothin',  only,"  with  a  nonchalent  indifference 
calculated  to  match  the  Doctor's  very  own,  "the  Cap- 
tain had  a  urgent  telegram  callin'  him  North,  and  he 
left  last  night,  kind  of  sudden." 

Folwer's  hasty  exclamation  of  startled  surprise  was 
not  lost  upon  his  informant,  whose  coolness  seemed  to 

keep  pace  with  the  Doctor's  excitement.  "D 

you,  Dummy,  you're  joking — we're  ruined  without 
Minturn,  and  you  know  it;  tell  me  quick,  man,  what's 
your  game." 

"No  game  at  all;  the  telegram  come  yesterday  after- 
noon (it  was  in  his  waste-basket  this  mornin')  an'  he 
went  at  onct,  leavin'  this  here  note  fer  you;  also  in- 
structions that  all  should  be  runin'  smooth  up  yonder 
against  your  arrival."  And  the  man  who  had  been 
addressed  as  Dummy  thrust  under  Fowler's  nose  a 
sealed  envelope  and  an  open  telegram,  whose  fragmen- 
tary sentences  he  underscored,  grotesquely,  with  the 
solitary  finger  of  a  maimed  right  hand,  while  he  read 
aloud  with  laborious  clearness:  "Carroll  and  maid  ar- 
rived at  Ash  Fork  on  July  -  — ,  via  the  Santa  Fe. 
Couldn  't  help  it ;  she  would  surprise  you ;  Henry  ill,  or 
I  might  have  come  also.  Wiser  not  to  let  her  know  I 
telegraphed  you.  Exceedingly  anxious  until  I  hear 
that  all  is  well  and  I'm  forgiven. — Anne  Minturn  Car- 
roll." 

"Jest  like  a  woman,  ain't  it,"  commented  Dummy, 
after  having  rolled  out,  with  a  triumphant  flourish  of 
r's,  a  name  that  sounded  perilously  like  Karl — "sech 
a  durned  lot  of  expensive  words;  but  the  Captain 
looked  powerful  worried — you  bet — uneasy  about  hold- 


SO  THE  DAYSMAN 

ups,  I  guess.  He  wouldn't  trust  no  messenger,  neither, 
though  I  offered  my  services,  since  I'm  expectin'  to  go 
North  myself  fer  a  little  spell  as  soon  as  this  here  stage 
play's  over." 

With  which  parting  thrust  Dummy  began  to  stow 
away  in  the  body  of  the  carry-all  such  stray  pieces  of 
luggage  as  had  been  left  behind  while  Fowler,  stand- 
ing on  the  deserted  platform  (beneath  that  open  car 
window  through  which  much  of  the  foregoing  conversa- 
tion had  been  borne,  by  some  strange  chance,  to  Tre- 
verin's  ears),  set  himself  to  work  out  the  problem  pre- 
sented through  a  note  which  had  changed  his  plans,  to 
say  the  least,  and  when  the  train  pulled  slowly  out,  a 
moment  later,  he  was  still  there,  savagely  biting  his 
lower  lip  and  frowning  heavily. 


THE   DAYSMAN  81 


CHAPTER   VII. 

"A  rosebud  set  with  little  wilful  thorns." — Tennyson. 

"FORSAKEN  of  God  and  maligned  by  man,"  it  is 
small  wonder  that  Ash  Fork  has  been  but  slow  to  real- 
ize itself.  Its  very  name,  hinting  at  spent  fires  and 
that  pronged  instrument  associated  so  decidedly  with 
Mephistophelian  symbolism,  is  suggestive  to  the  average 
mind  of  a  sinister  origin,  and  many  witticisms  have 
been  made  at  its  expense — one  of  the  cruelest,  to  the  ef- 
fect that,  from  whatever  direction  it  may  be  ap- 
proached, one  must  invariably  enter  the  town  on  a 
down-grade  and  to  get  out  of  "such  a  hole"  he  must 
needs  make  a  slow  and  toilsome  journey  up  hill;  while 
a  certain  traveler  from  the  East,  enamored  of  the  beau- 
ties of  California,  had  been  known  to  aver  that  Ash 
Fork,  like  purgatory,  was  an  unpleasant  stopping-place 
between  the  interesting  monotony  of  God's  country 
and  the  untasted  joys  of  a  paradise  beyond.  So  it  has 
come  to  pass  that  Ash  Fork,  drifting  for  years  through 
a  slouching  existence,  with  no  inspiration  to  improve 
upon  those  few  definite  gifts  bestowed  upon  it  by  a 
bounteous  Nature  has  grown  gradually  to  concur  in  the 
generally  expressed  opinion  of  those  who  regard  "that 
wretched  place  where  one  sometimes  has  to  wait,"  as 
the  abomination  of  desolation." 


82  THE  DAYSMAN 

But  there  may  come  a  day  when  some  discerning  per- 
son will  discover  that  Ash  Fork  has  "atmosphere," 
that  there  is  a  certain  fascination  in  the  wide  freedom 
of  its  undulating  landscape,  a  rugged  dignity  in  those 
desolate  plains  that  stretch  away  through  a  vast,  clear 
envelope  of  rarified  ether  to  where  bald  cones  of  vol- 
canic cinder  are  thrown  in  broad,  bold  masses  against 
a  horizon  whose  deceptive  nearness  gives  promise  of 
limitless  spaces  beyond.  Then  it  will  be  remembered 
that  this  place,  although  lower  than  Flagstaff,  can  yet 
boast  of  an  altitude  of  over  five  thousand  feet;  that 
here,  the  palpitant  heat  of  a  brief  high  noon  gives  place 
to  long,  cool  twilight  hours  when  the  sighing  breath  of 
an  evening  breeze  makes  plaint  that  an  ardent  sun  has 
gone  to  the  West,  where  darkling  shadows  play,  and 
the  stars  come  to  watch  for  the  flush  of  dawn  and 
the  nightbird's  song  floats  through  dry,  clear  air,  where 
no  danger  of  cold  ever  lurks  unseen,  and  Ash  Fork  will 
come  into  its  own. 

No  such  transformation,  nowever,  had  taken  place 
on  a  certain  July  day  when  a  west-bound  express,  hav- 
ing slowed  down  at  the  station,  deposited  on  the  plat- 
form a  rather  curious  collection  of  human  freight  and 
its  accompanying  quota  of  ill-assorted  luggage,  con- 
spicuous among  which  were  several  sizes  of  trunks, 
plainly  marked  and  docketed  as  hailing  from  Washing- 
ton, D.  C.,  that  might  perhaps  have  given  rise  to  some- 
what interesting  speculation  as  to  the  characteristics  of 
their  owners,  had  not  the  attention  been  drawn  away 
to  a  spirited  conversation  taking  place  between  a 
learned-looking  gentleman  with  a  pince-nez  and  a 
bright-faced  girl  of  sixteen  or  thereabout, 


THE    DAYSMAN  83 

"Really,  Professor,  there  is  absolutely  no  necessity 
for  inquiring.  I'm  quite  sure  there  can't  be  any  tele- 
gram for  me.  You  know  I'm  to  be  a  surprise,  father 
isn't  even  aware  that  we're  coming,  and  the  important 
thing  is  to  find  out  about  the  trains  going  South." 

"But,  Miss  Carroll,  there  is  no  train  going  South — 
you  must  have  been  misinformed;  I've  just  inquired, 

and" the  elderly  gentleman  with  the  scholarly 

brow,  hesitated — perplexed. 

"No  train  going  South?  You  must  be  mistaken,  Doc- 
tor Wendling;  we've  probably  missed  the  last  one  out 
to-day  and  may  have  to  spend  the  night  at  some  hotel 
here.  Hadn't  you  better  find  out  about  where  one  is, 
and  call  a  cab  to  take  us  there?  But  first,  please,  ask 
for  a  time-table,  so  we  may  be  sure  to  get  oft*  without 
fail  to-morrow,  for  I  can  hardly  wait  to  see  father." 

Half-child,  half-woman,  Carroll  Minturn  had  already 
begun  to  realize  that  the  mind  of  a  man  of  science  may 
need  practical  direction,  and  hence  she  had  taken  to 
managing  the  distrait  Wendling  with  a  sweet  firmness 
which  was  entirely  feminine  and  appealed  to  the 
learned  Doctor  as  altogether  charming  in  one  who  lis- 
tened with  such  wrapt  attention  to  his  earnest  mono- 
logues on  the  ethnological  significance  of  the  Hopis,  as 
a  type.  Indeed,  such  a  keen  interest  in  racial  origins 
seemed  quite  wonderful  in  one  so  young  and  the  gentle 
professor,  unversed  in  the  ways  of  the  sex,  began  to  feel 
a  scientific  pleasure  in  "the  development  of  the  child's 
mind,"  little  dreaming  that  behind  her  sympathetic 
questions  there  lurked  a  mighty  weariness  such  as  only 
youth  may  feel  in  the  presence  of  an  antiquary.  And 


84  THE  DAYSMAN 

Carroll,  having  an  immense  respect  for  this  dis- 
tinguished personage,  who  had  been  chosen  by  a  fa- 
mous institution  as  the  most  conservative  of  archaeolog- 
ical investigators,  to  conduct  an  expedition  into  Ari- 
zona, imbued  also  with  a  fine  sense  of  the  importance 
of  being  one,  as  it  were,  of  this  learned  band  of  ex- 
plorers which  was  to  penetrate  the  mysteries  of  the 
ages — Carroll  would  have  considered  it  rude  not  to  re- 
spond to  the  pet  prejudices  of  this  kind-hearted  trav- 
eling companion  whom  Aunt  Anne  had  pressed  into 
service  as  a  chaperone.  Her  eager  desire,  therefore,  to 
make  Professor  Wendling  happy  was  as  wholly  sincere, 
if  less  spontaneous,  as  that  more  vital  enthusiasm  with 
which  she  greeted  the  swift  flashes  of  a  vivid  present- 
day  life  that  came  to  her  in  fleeting  glimpses  as  they 
sped  westward. 

How  welcome  was  her  first  sight  of  a  real  cow-boy 
dashing  over  the  plain,  leaving  flying  dust-clouds  in  his 
wake,  and  the  Indians — ah,  they  were  her  first  disap- 
pointment. Picturesque  but  far  less  appealing  than 
the  savage  warriors  of  her  dreams,  whose  tragic  gloom 
was  impenetrable,  their  fiery  spirits  unquenched,  these 
smiling  sellers  of  pottery,  who  beseiged  the  platforms 
and  car  windows  at  every  stopping  place,  seemed  only 
bent,  like  all  the  rest  of  a  commonplace  world,  upon 
earning  a  prosaic  if  honest  penny.  She  was  comforted, 
however,  when  Doctor  Wendling  related  the  history  of 
the  red  man's  last  desperate  struggle  against  advancing 
civilization,  in  the  South;  of  far-famed  Apache  strong- 
holds from  which  there  had  issued  war-like  bands  of 
fierce  marauders  to  prey  upon  the  rich  freighters  of 


THE   DAYSMAN  85 

those  early  days  when  twenty-mule  team  wagons  bear- 
ing huge  cargoes  of  merchandise  and  of  ore  tempted 
the  Indians  hardly  less  than  the  gayly  bedecked  quad- 
rupeds themselves,  whose  bizarre  trimmings  did  not 
stop  with  the  brass  bells  of  their  trappings,  but  ex- 
tended to  bodies  and  tails  which  were  reached  and 
clipped  in  so  fantastic  and  grotesque  a  fashion  as  to 
excite  envy  even  in  a  savage  breast.  She  laughed  when 
he  told  her  of  those  final  wild  raids  upon  the  snorting 
"steam  horse"  which  certain  bold  Apaches  had  essayed 
to  pull  from  its  "iron  trail"  with  rawhide  riatas,  as 
one  ropes  a  steer,  of  how  the  powerful  engines,  spurn- 
ing a  noose  had  taught  them  how  to  fear  an  unseen 
power,  for  "had  not  the  lasso  proved  the  doom  of  such 
as  had  attacked  this  devil- wagon  ?" 

In  their  mutual  appreciation  of  one  another's  en- 
thusiasms, the  man  who  represented  a  prehistoric  past 
and  the  girl  who  stood  for  an  epoch-making  future  had 
come  to  be  fast  friends,  and  Doctor  Wendling  turned  to 
do  her  bidding  with  a  ready  acquiescence  that  was,  per- 
haps, an  unconscious  tribute  to  the  silent  strength  of 
practical  forces  as  opposed  to  the  possible  impotence  of 
theoretic  abstractions,  while  the  idea  began  slowly  to 
dawn  upon  Carroll  that  one  might  experience  some  dif- 
ficulty in  "calling  a  cab"  at  Ash  Fork,  that  such  a  ve- 
hicle might,  in  fact,  prove  to  be  rather  an  incongruous 
note  on  this  landscape  of  billowing  browns;  grave 
doubts,  moreover,  as  to  the  existence  here  of  such  a 
place  as  had  thus  far  been  associated  in  one's  mind 
with  the  word  hotel,  were  pressing  upon  her  with 
sharp  insistence  when  Doctor  Wendling  returned. 


86  THE  DAYSMAN 

"They  tell  me  that  the  railroad  of  which  you  have 
heard  is  not  yet  finished;  that  until  it  is,  the  only  way 
to  reach  Phoenix  is  by  stage,  although  from  there  on 
traveling  will  be  more  comfortable.  I  am  afraid  you 
should  have  come  by  the  Southern  route,  but  now  we 
shall  have  to  do  the  best  that  we  can,  and,  in  the  mean- 
time, do  you  not  think  it  would  be  well  for  me  to  tele- 
graph your  father?" 

"Telegraph  father?  No,  indeed;  that  would  spoil 
my  surprise.  "What  fun  to  go  by  stage !  Besides,  Hal- 
cyon Valley  is  farther  North  than  you  think,  because, 
when  the  new  railroad  is  finished,  the  run  from  Ash 
Fork  to  our  home  will  be  shorter  than  that  between 
New  York  and  Washington;  father  has  said  so."  She 
finished  with  a  triumphant  finality  that  was  almost 
convincing. 

"But,"  the  Doctor  hesitated,  "we  are  going  by  slow 
stages  through  out-of-the-way  places,  taking  in  Monte- 
zuma's  Well  and  certain  prehistoric  ruins  on  our  jour- 
ney South.  We  may,  in  fact,  decide  to  wait  for  cooler 
weather  before  undertaking  excavation  work  at  Casa 
Grande,  and" 

"But  we  shan't  be  in  the  way,  Professor,  and  /  do 
not  mind  going  slowly;  please  take  us,  and  I  promise 
to  be  most  obedient;  I  can  be  good;  Marie  will  testify 
(I  have  no  other  witness),  that  I  am  easy  to  manage 
when  the  necessity  of  the  occasion  demands  it,  n'est 
pas  Marie?"  and  she  turned  impulsively  in  mock  ap- 
peal to  a  French  maid,  who  had  been  standing  guard 
over  the  hand-baggage  with  the  air  of  one  who  expected 


THE   DAYSMAN  87 

at  any  moment  to  be  called  upon  to  risk  her  life  in  its 
defense. 

"But,  yes,  Mees  Carroll,"  corroborated  Marie,  who 
had  applied  herself  with  remarkable  assiduity  to  ac- 
quiring the  "speech  Americain,"  since  hearing  her 
young  mistress  tell  Aunt  Anne  that  she,  Carroll,  could 
not  be  expected  to  learn  the  language  of  every  new  ser- 
vant employed  in  the  house,  which  remark  had  been 
made  apropos  of  one  of  Aunt  Anne's  hobbies  with  no 
reference  to  the  French  maid  or  her  native  tongue  and 
belongs  to  "another  story"  that  need  not  be  repeated 
here. 

"It  is  not  an  indisposition  on  my  part  to  have  you 
with  us,  Miss  Carroll.  Your  company  is" — the  Doctor 
floundered  hopelessly  for  a  word  properly  tempered 
with  dignity  and  gallantry,  "is  a  most  edifying  pleas- 
ure, but" 

Carroll,  dimpling  adorably  at  a  compliment  as  un- 
expected as  it  was  naive,  interrupted  him  with: 
' '  That 's  dear  Aunt  Anne 's  pet  excuse  but,  as  I  tell  her, 
father  knows  me  too  well  to  hold  any  one  else  account- 
able. And  so  it's  settled  we're  going;  and  now,  when 
does  the  stage  leave?" 

Her  infectuous  energy  carried  more  deliberate  minds 
by  storm,  and  before  he  quite  realized  it,  Doctor  Wen- 
dling  had  made  arrangements  for  such  an  addition  to 
his  party  as  would  have  seemed  appalling  a  month  ago, 
and  within  half  an  hour  he  and  Carroll  were  eating  to- 
gether, companionably,  at  a  democratic  lunch-counter, 
about  which  were  gathered  all  sorts  and  conditions  of 
men,  while  Marie,  at  the  extreme  right,  nibbled  daintily 


88  THE  DAYSMAN 

but  abstractedly,  hugging  closely  all  the  while  a  brown 
portmanteau  which  had  never  left  her  hand,  and  glanc- 
ing now  and  again  toward  a  genial-looking  "garcon- 
vache"  as  she  denominated  the  individual  at  her  left, 
who  was  gulping  coffee  in  horrifying  quantities,  at  the 
same  time  shoveling  pie  into  his  mouth  with  a  rapidity 
that  inspired  terror  and  a  sustained  gusto  which  ap- 
peared to  be  hardly  less  remarkable  than  it  was  audi- 
ble. 

With  respect  to  that  same  brown  portmanteau,  how- 
ever, it  had  become  necessary  for  Carroll  to  confide  to 
Doctor  Wendling  Marie's  reasons  for  never  allowing 
it  out  of  her  sight  in  order  that  he,  too,  being  in  the 
friendly  conspiracy,  might  connive  with  them  both  at 
its  preservation  from  the  hands  of  officious  porters  and 
eager  baggage  men.  In  its  capacious  pockets  it  ap- 
peared that  the  earnings  of  fifteen  frugal  years  had 
been  stowed  away,  artfully  concealed  between  the  inno- 
cent looking  folds  of  sundry  handkerchiefs  or  deftly 
rolled  in  that  time-honored  institution  of  the  thrifty 
French  peasant,  the  saving  "bas  d'or,"  for  somewhere, 
Marie  had  heard  of  vast  benefits  to  be  reaped  by  those 
who  "eenvest"  in  mines,  and  it  had  seemed  to  her  not 
at  all  a  bad  idea  to  have  in  one's  hand,  for  the  first 
opportunity  that  might  present  itself  in  the  enchanted 
land  to  which  they  were  going,  that  nest-egg  which  had 
lain  safely  thus  far  in  a  bank,  according  to  Uncle 
Harry's  advice  (and  so  Marie  had  withdrawn  her  lit- 
tle fortune  and  was  bearing  it  with  her,  in  anticipation 
of  some  new  Eldorado,  anxiously,  cautiously,  as  the 
self-appointed  guardian  of  vague  potentialities. 


THE   DAYSMAN  89 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

In  such  a  night 

Did  Thisby  fearfully  o'ertrip  the  dew, 
And  saw  the  lion's  shadow  ere  himself, 
And  ran  dismay'd  away. 

MIDSUMMER  in  Halcyon  Valley  is  but  an  aftermath 
of  Spring.  Gradually,  almost  imperceptibly,  since  the 
coming  of  life-giving  showers,  has  the  transformation 
been  going  on — softening  rugged  mountain  ranges  with 
the  changing  greens  of  myriad  grasses  and  gently  veil- 
ing the  stern  barrenness  of  tawny  hillsides  with  the  ten- 
der verdure  and  the  brilliant  hues  of  countless  wild- 
flowers — but  it  is,  all  in  a  moment,  that  one  realizes 
(through  the  smiling  radiance  of  a  blooming  desert) 
that  the  great  awakening  has  come. 

To  John  Treverin,  viewing  for  the  first  time,  with 
the  eyes  of  an  outsider,  the  far  reaches  of  this  land  of 
his  nativity,  the  slow  progress  northward  had  been  a 
succession  of  revelations  through  which  he  had  been 
given  ample  opportunity  to  note  such  changes  as  the 
four  years  of  his  absence  had  wrought.  And  yet  it  was 
not  the  changes  themselves  which  impressed  him,  but 
rather  that,  in  their  potential  significance,  he  felt  the 
quickening  power  of  possible  emanations;  giving  prom- 
ise, even  as  had  the  silent  brooding  of  the  sterile  wil- 
derness of  a  future  rich  in  fruition. 


90  THE  DAYSMAN 

It  was  the  first  year  of  that  great  drought  which, 
sweeping  over  Arizona  in  the  early  nineties,  burned 
first  the  southern  ranges  and,  two  years  later,  wrought 
its  work  of  devastation  in  the  North.  But  Halcyon  Val- 
ley, as  yet  exempt  from  that  unyielding  dryness  which 
proved  so  fatal  to  the  native  grasses,  was  supporting 
with  bounteous  hospitality,  in  the  glades  and  on  the 
slopes  of  its  mineral  bearing  hills,  flocks  of  sheep  that 
had  been  driven  from  as  far  South  as  the  Sonoran  bor- 
der line  to  feed  upon  the  rich  forage  grasses  that  grow 
so  quickly  to  maturity  in  the  rainy  season  when  the  last 
vestiges  of  the  alfilaria,  which  constitutes  much  of 
loveliness  of  the  wild  pea-vine,  most  nutritious  and 
toothsome  of  morsels  to  bleating  epicureans,  have  given 
place  to  a  less  inviting  but  not  unwholesome  browse 
consisting  of  the  leaves  of  the  mesquite,  the  foliage  of 
the  manzanita  and  the  berries  of  the  chincapin. 

And  Treverin,  riding  for  hours  with  the  lonely  sheep- 
herders,  caught  glimpses  of  the  diversified  interests  of 
the  Territory,  learned  something  of  the  breadth  of  its 
development,  of  the  height  of  its  ambitions.  Yonder, 
he  was  informed  by  a  certain  taciturn  shepherd  with 
whom  he  had  ridden  for  well-nigh  the  half  of  a  long 
day,  was  a  noble  ram  whose  geneology  might  be  traced 
back  to  Asiatic  ancestors  that  had  fed  upon  the  plains 
of  Chaldea  under  the  guardianship  of  those  wise  men 
of  old  who,  while  watching  their  flocks  by  night,  had 
pondered  so  many  things  in  their  hearts.  There,  rest- 
ing by  night  and  feeding  by  day,  the  sheep  had  first 
been  brought  to  that  high  state  of  perfection  which 


THE   DAYSMAN  91 

made  it  seem  of  sufficient  ralne  fo?  importation  into 
Europe  where  the  Merino  of  French  and  Spanish  fame 
had  developed  the  highest  type  then  known  to  the 
world.  The  strengthening  of  the  breed  had  been  main- 
tained through  careful  herding  from  mountain  to  val- 
ley in  winter  and  back  to  the  rich  ranges  of  the  Pyre- 
nees for  the  summer  months,  and  even  the  great  Na- 
poleon had  deigned  to  interest  himself  in  the  destiny 
of  sheep.  Later,  still  retaining  all  that  was  best  of  the 
primitive  methods  of  those  ancient  Chaldean  astrono- 
mers, the  famous  strains  of  Cotswold  and  Southdown 
had  been  produced  and  then,  through  the  grafting  of 
these  old  world  methods  upon  new  world  ideas,  under 
climatic  conditions  that  were  almost  perfect,  had 
been  evolved  that  pedigreed  American  Merino  which 
Treverin  was  assured,  could  not  be  outclassed  by  the 
best  blood  of  "Australian  improved." 

And  thus,  on  every  side,  did  Treverin  realize  the 
merging  of  world-old  experience  with  modern  science. 
Here  were  great  stretches  of  alfalfa  purpling  in  the 
sunlight;  there,  fields  of  yellowing  grain,  green  orch- 
ards of  almonds  and  of  apricots,  set  on  the  edge  of  a 
desert — sometimes  in  its  very  midst — a  desert  through 
which,  for  distances  of  several  miles  some  modern  canal 
might  traverse  the  bed  of  an  ancient  Aztec  ditch,  cut 
to  a  width  of  twenty  feet,  constructed  indeed  from  the 
solid  rock  by  a  people  whose  life  drama  had  been 
played  out  in  a  period  of  antiquity  so  remote  that  its 
history  is  but  the  dim  wraith  of  a  legend. 

As  for  the  railroad,  that  most  important  factor  in 


92  THE  DAYSMAN 

modern  human  affairs  through  whose  evolution  might 
be  traced  many  of  the  benefits  and  more  of  the  prob- 
lems of  present-day  civilization — the  sinuous  pathway 
of  its  shining  rails  was  the  dominant  fact  in  the  land- 
scape; its  roadbed  which  had  girdled  mountains,  been 
blasted  through  cliffs  and  stretched  across  canyons,  rep- 
resented more  than  a  pretty  piece  of  engineering  skill; 
it  seemed  rather  the  final  link  in  a  chain  that  was  to 
bind  the  faith  of  the  ages  with  the  hope  of  the  century. 

One  of  the  definite  achievements  that  must  be  count- 
ed to  the  credit  of  the  man  he  had  come  to  seek,  Tre- 
verin  knew  that  the  work  now  nearing  completion  had 
not  been  conceived  in  that  spirit  of  self-aggrandizement 
which  has  inspired  many  a  dreamer  to  conquer  in  the 
realms  of  traffic.  He  imagined  that,  in  the  life  scheme 
of  Richard  Wood,  it  represented  little  more  than  a  side 
issue  which  had  been  met  with  the  ever  victorious  per- 
sistence that  characterized  his  simplest  movements. 
And  yet  Wood  was  not,  he  believed,  the  man  to  ascribe 
his  accomplished  labor  to  disinterested  motives. 

With  nothing  baffling  or  enigmatical  in  his  tempera- 
ment, with  little  of  the  inscrutable  in  his  personality, 
he  possessed  chiefly  the  astuteness  of  the  wise  man  who 
is  above  all  else  honest  with  himself.  If  his  genius  was 
constructive  in  its  influence  it  was  not  because  of  a 
self-conscious  effort  to  benefit  the  masses  but  rather 
through  his  frankly  expressed  conviction  that  the  rnoit 
far-sighted  success  is  an  inclusive  prosperity  which 
carries  upward  the  fortunes  of  the  majority  and,  there- 
fore, that  very  grasp  of  a  situation  which  had  helped 
him  to  a  quick  recognition  of  the  fact  that  a  north  and 


THE   DAYSMAN  93 

south  road  would  be  a  means  of  opening  up  for  the 
general  good  large  and  valuable  sections  of  undevel- 
oped country,  made  him  none  the  less  slow  in  his  per- 
ception of  the  immense  advantage  to  be  reaped  there- 
from by  his  own  particular  interests. 

An  ever  broadening  sense  of  perspective  enabled  Tre- 
verin  to  realize  the  proportionate  value  of  Richard 
Wood  more  fully,  perhaps,  through  his  work,  than 
could  have  been  possible  in  any  other  way,  and  yet  the 
boy  who  had  made  his  plans  without  taking  into  ac- 
count the  probability  of  delay  could  hardly  have  chosen 
this  by-path  of  psychological  speculation  forced  upon 
him  by  the  telegram  which  he  had  found  awaiting  him 
at  Tucson. 

Containing  as  it  did  the  unlooked-for  information 
that  Wood  had  been  abroad,  was  expected  within  the 
month,  and  would  unquestionably  arrive  by  the  North- 
had  chosen — that  of  proceeding  northward  without  de- 
lay, in  the  hope  of  meeting  Wood  immediately  upon  his 
ern  route,  it  had  left  to  Treverin  the  course  which  he 
return  to  the  erritory — or  the  alternative  of  accepting 
the  earnest  invitation  of  young  Waldergrave  to  come 
with  their  party  up  into  the  cool  altitudes  of  the  Santa 
Cruz  or  Rillito  ranges,  the  Honorable  Lionel  was  not 
quite  sure  which,  over  whose  summits  welcome  clouds 
were  said  to  hover  and  where  fresh  southwest  winds 
had  been  promised  as  a  relief  -from  -the  "blawsted 
plains"  where  it  was  so  "beastly  hot." 

During  their  brief  acquaintance  the  young  Briton 
had  conceived  for  Treverin  a  liking  that  bordered  on 
enthusiasm.  It  had  found  expression  through  his  char- 


94  THE  DAYSMAN 

aeterization  of  the  American  as  "an  awfully  jolly  good 
sort,"  a  remark  called  forth  by  no  especial  manifesta- 
tion of  gayety  on  Treverin's  part,  but  rather  because 
of  their  mutual  capacity  for  maintaining  interesting 
silences  which,  as  his  own  especial  fort,  the  Englishman 
had  baen  wont  to  regard  in  the  light  of  a  gift,  dis- 
tinctly national,  'and  vouchsafed  to  few  beyond  the  con- 
fines of  that  insular  environment  whose  reposeful  dig- 
nity has  held  its  own  through  the  changing  phases  of 
more  ephemeral  civilizations.  And  to  the  general  cor- 
diality of  this  urgent  invitation  there  was  the  added 
warmth  of  a  more  particular  welcome  awaiting  Treverin 
at  Tucson  from  the  elder  Waldergrave,  whose  comfort- 
able box  up  in  the  hills  had  been  placed  at  the  disposal 
of  the  Honorable  Lionel  and  his  friends  for  the  shoot- 
ing, later  on.  In  the  meantime,  they  were  assured  of 
pretty  fair  sport  in  an  angler's  paradise  and  the  hos- 
pitality of  a  roomy  ranch  house  on  the  slope  of  the 
mountain  where,  on  the  borders  of  a  frontier,  now  rap- 
idly vanishing,  surrounded  by  trophies  gathered  from 
many  lands,  the  scion  of  a  sturdy  stock  dispensed  good 
cheer  after  the  fashion  of  Merrie  England  when  the 
world  was  young,  in  an  atmosphere  which  had  absorbed 
harmonious  elements  from  a  storied  past  as  readily  as 
it  had  caught  the  varied  respiration  of  an  abounding 
future. 

The  very  room  in  which  the  plans  for  a  long  holiday 
had  been  discussed,  on  the  evening  of  their  arrival, 
preserved  the  significance  of  a  microcism  wherein  the 
tawny  skin  of  a  royal  Bengal  tiger  was  offset  by  the 
lustrous  pelt  of  a  mountain  lion  as  Nature,  unsubdued 


THE   DAYSMAN  95 

in  the  Orient  viewed  the  untamed  wildness  of  an 
Occident  wherein  the  crude  symbolism  of  Navajo  blanket 
matched  the  emblematic  mysticism  of  Eastern  prayer 
rug.  One  lost  one's  sense  of  intrinsic  values  in  the 
huge  hall  whose  lofty  rafters  and  dark  beamed  ceiling 
could  be  one  moment  ablaze  with  the  modern  brilliance 
of  countless  electric  bulbs,  the  next,  in  the  subdued 
radiance  of  swinging  lamps  of  rare  old  bronze  and  then 
at  length  reduced  to  the  shadowy  flicker  of  firelight 
glow  which  wrought  fantastic  effects  among  the  antique 
armor  in  the  corners  and  the  defensive  antlers  on  the 
walls.  Mingling  curiously  this  flotsam  and  jetsam  from 
the  rich  argosies  of  Time  had  drifted  together  in  a  pic- 
turesque confusion  that  suggested  no  contention  for 
superiority,  nor  did  any  object,  vying  with  its  neigh- 
bor, hint  at  a  question  of  relative  worth. 

A  fitting  background,  it  had  seemed  to  Treverin  for 
the  lineal  descendant  of  an  ancient  earldom  in  whose 
attractive  personality  one  "sensed"  somehow  a  fine 
blending  of  the  complex  traditions  of  older  civilizations 
with  the  definitive  ambitions  of  a  younger  race.  The 
elder  Waldergrave  seemed  to  have  shed  the  superficial 
mannerisms  that  still  characterized  his  younger  brother 
as  naturally  as  he  had  discarded  the  honorary  titles 
that  had  come  to  him  by  birth,  and  yet  voluntarily  di- 
vested as  he  was  of  the  conventional  dignity  of  his  rank, 
he  seemed  a  living  exponent  of  the  fact  that  native  vi- 
rility may  be  recovered  in  the  individual  chiefly  because 
of  its  having  been  typical  of  his  race. 

To  Treverin,  fresh  from  the  limitations  of  college 
life,  there  had  been  a  certain  agreeable  charm,  a  subtle 


96  THE  DAYSMAN 

flavor  of  cosmopolitanism  in  the  society  of  his  three 
traveling  companions  and  the  promised  pleasure  of  con- 
tinued intercourse  with  this  seasoned  man  of  the  world, 
whose  force  seemed  the  result  of  a  widely  diffused  ex- 
perience that  had  simmered  down  to  the  strength  of 
thought,  made  him  loth  to  surrender  the  joys  of  the  dil- 
letante  for  that  path  of  definite  duty  which  had  been 
the  object  of  his  journey. 

Again  to-night,  however,  he  felt  the  power  of  those 
early  influences  that  had  lain  at  the  root  of  his  first  in- 
spiration: for  it  had  been  an  inspiration,  he  told  him- 
self, as  definitely  translucent  as  the  pale  stars,  whose 
flashing  light  so  brilliantly  remote  seemed  nearer  and 
clearer  in  this  crystal  transparency  of  desert  air. 

He  had  been  riding  alone  since  sundown,  having  rest- 
ed through  the  heated  hours  of  a  long  afternoon  in  the 
hope  of  covering  many  weary  miles  before  the  coming 
of  another  dawn.  At  the  top  of  a  hill  he  paused,  sur- 
veying the  broad,  cooling  area  of  moon-lit  desert  over 
which  his  path  wound  circuitously  before  him.  To  the 
right  great  dark  masses  of  mountains  were  sharply  out- 
lined against  a  cloudless  sky:  on  the  left  undulating 
waves  of  sandy  plain  stretched  through  broad  spaces 
westward.  No  sound  disturbed  the  clear  stillness  of  the 
night,  the  attenuated  shadows  of  giant  sahuaros 
stretched  gaunt  and  motionless  across  his  way — not 
even  the  lithe  grace  of  a  paloverde  stirred  in  the  appal- 
ling silence  of  the  breathless  moment,  and  yet,  sud- 
denly, his  waiting  horse  pricked  up  his  ears. 

An  instant  later  the  sharp  report  of  a  pistol  rang  out 
upon  the  quiet  air  and  Treverin,  turning  abruptly  to 


THE    DAYSMAN  97 

the  left,  saw  the  quick  recurrence  of  flashes  that  regis- 
tered themselves  in  rapid  succession  about  a  dark 
splotch  of  confused  shadows,  whose  blurred  outlines 
were  scarcely  distinguishable  in  the  dim  distance. 

That  there  had  been  an  attack  upon  the  belated  stage 
he  surmised,  but  as  to  the  character  of  its  assailants  he 
dared  not  hazard  a  guess  until  faintly  he  caught  the 
echo  of  wild  shouting  and  the  significance  of  a  savage 
yell  was  borne  in  upon  his  understanding.  The  possi- 
bility of  an  Indian  attack  in  this  place  and  at  this  date 
seemed  absurd  to  one  familiar  with  the  tribal  histories 
of  the  Territory,  and  yet  remembering  the  conditions 
that  still  prevailed  among  certain  turbulent  remnants 
of  a  savage  race  just  beyond  the  international  bound- 
ery  line,  and  recalling  vague  reports  of  an  attack  upon 
a  stage-load  of  passengers  within  recent  years  by  a 
stray  band  of  Apaches,  running  amuck,  who  had  es- 
caped the  fate  of  the  ill-starred  Geronimo,  he  almost 
feared  what  seemed  beyond  the  power  of  belief. 

Lurid  tales  of  the  'sixties  flashed  through  his  brain, 
horrible  accounts  of  bloody  massacres  perpetrated  in 
the  early  'seventies:  the  history  of  thrilling  encounters 
between  well-armed  troopers  and  wild  young  braves  in 
the  last  stern  struggle  of  a  stalwart  race  for  its  tribal 
traditions,  its  right  to  maintain  that  savage  independ- 
ence where  existence  lay.  Experiences  sad  and  tragic 
rushed  upon  his  mind,  told  by  famous  Indian  fighters 
of  the  past  decade — men  who  had  eaten  at  his  father's 
board — who  had  slept  and  fought  beneath  these  friend- 
ly stars,  in  the  days  when  a  sheltering  tent  overhead 
was  a  thing  as  rare  and  far  less  missed,  they  had  said, 


98  THE  DAYSMAN 

than  the  unaccustomed  sight  of  a  woman's  face.  And 
the  fighting  blood  of  a  combative  breed  raged  fiercely 
within  him  at  the  fearsome  thought  of  an  onslaught  of 
the  savage  upon  helplessness. 

To  spur  his  horse  to  its  utmost  speed  for  a  madden- 
ing race  through  a  cloud  of  dust,  that  might  have  been 
raised  by  a  dozen  men,  was  the  impulse  of  a  moment, 
but  it  bore  him  down  to  a  scattering  group,  on  the 
sandy  plain,  that  circled  around  a  stranded  stage.  The 
challenging  question  of  friend  or  foe  had  elicited  a  sat- 
isfactory response  and  he  was  soon  apprised  of  a  few 
important  details  concerning  the  attack  which  had  been 
made,  it  appeared,  by  several  Indians,  who  must  have 
received  the  information  somewhere  that  the  stage  was 
expected  to  convey  certain  heavy  consignments  of  gold 
from  the — country.  They  had  lain  in  wait  for  the  pur- 
pose of  capturing  the  rich  booty  and  the  driver,  who 
was  relating  his  experiences  when  Treverin  arrived 
upon  the  scene  of  action,  seemed  to  be  of  the  opinion 
that  a  white  man  in  the  disguise  of  a  red-skin  had 
planned  and  directed  the  hold-up.  "For,"  he  added 
skeptically,  "no  durned  Injun  could  have  been  so  slick 
at  carryin'  off  the  gold  with  not  a  life  thrown  in  and 
guns  playin'  lively  jest  fer  fun.  I  was  drivin'  along  as 
cam  as  June,  when  a  red-ski  jumps  out  from  behind 
that  rock  and  pinting  a  pistol  straight  at  me  heart,  mut- 
ters, "Throw  off  the  strong  box,  the  Iniuns  kill."  Devil 
a  bit,  me  friends,  says  I,  feelin'  my  gun  most  com- 
fortin'  near;  'nothin'  doing  here  in  the  bankin'  way.' 

"Then  before  I  knows  it  owld  Satan  gets  loose  and 
four  of  his  imps  are  dancin'  aroun'  blinkin'  their  guns 


THE    DAYSMAN  99 

and  eyein'  me  fierce  with  powerful  hands  at  the  horses' 
heads,  while  the  fifth  was  fer  sear-chin'  the  coach  clean 
through.  Twixt  passengers'  screams  and  them  savages' 
yells  and  the  voice  of  the  leader  givin*  commands,  I 
well-nigh  lost  the  sense  of  the  scene  and  failed  to  no- 
tice the  moment  whin  me  horses  got  free. 

"Yes,  them  shots  was  fired  straight  out  in  the  air 
jest  fer  a  show,  an'  they  all  rides  off,  but  the  leader 
still  was  lingerin'  roun'  and  cursin'  low,  fer  'where  in 
the  devil's  name,'  says  he,  'is  that  big  gold  bar  as  was 
comin'  down  from  old  Rajah  Mine  by  this  stage,  as  I 
beared."  He  stood  thinkin'  awhile  scratchin'  his  head 
and  eyein'  me  cowld,  fer  he  hadn't  give  me  back  my 
gun.  Then  he  laughed  as  though  he'd  remembered 
some,  an'  'I  guess,'  says  he,  "that  it  must  have  been 
with  them  women  that  run,  an'  they've  got  it  some- 
where's  in  that  durned  little  bag,  I'll  bet  my  life  they 
hev',  sez  he. 

Hereupon  the  loquacious  driver,  who  had  been  the 
center  of  interest  to  a  group  of  some  half  dozen  passen- 
gers, was  interrupted  by  an  elderly  gentleman,  who  de- 
manded frantically  to  know  in  what  direction  they  had 
gone. 

"If  you  mean  the  Injuns,  sor,  I'm  jest  after  tellin' 
ye  as  how  five  of  'em  made  a  bee  line  fer  the  South,  an ' 
the  leader  (I  c'd  swear  lie  was  no  Injun)  struck  out 
North.  I  spose  they've  got  horses  hid  out  yonder 
'mongst  the  rocks,  as  there  wasn't  more  than  enough 
shadows  aroun'  here  to  conceal  a  few  men  sech  a  night 
as  this." 

"But  the  young  lady  and  her  maid,"  gasped  the  tall 


100  THE  DAYSMAN 

gentleman,  "tell  me,  driver,  where  have  they  gone?  No 
one  has  seen  them  since  we  all  got  out  of  the  coach  to 
investigate  the  cause  of  this  disturbance." 

The  mystified  driver  stared  stupidly  for  a  moment 
with  bulging  eyes  into  the  anxious  face  of  his  dis- 
traught passenger  and  then  a  light  seemed  to  dawn  in 
his  own. 

"Holy  Mother,"  he  exclaimed  excitedly,  "it  must 
have  been  thim  the  war  whoopin'  white  man  in  a  blanket 
was  speakin'  about,  but  durned  if  I  see  his  meanin'  un- 
til this  minute." 

"What  shall  we  do?"  cried  Doctor  Wendling  in  very 
genuine  distress.  "She  was  but  a  child,  in  my  care 
and—" 

"Can  I  be  of  service?"  asked  Treverin  quietly.  "My 
horse  is  in  pretty  good  trim,  and  if  you  will  give  me 
some  idea  as  to  direction  I  may  be  able  to  overtake 
them  more  quickly  than  the  rest  of  you." 

The  driver,  pointing  toward  the  Northeast,  in  a 
few  rapid  words  explained  where  he  had  last  seen  the 
vanishing  figure  of  the  masked  highwayman,  and  Tre- 
verin, turning  his  horse's  head,  had  soon  put  a  wide 
distance  between  himself  and  the  little  group  of  excited 
passengers  who  were  following  more  slowly  on  foot. 

In  the  white  light  of  a  full  moon  he  could  not  have 
failed  to  distinguish  the  slightest  shifting  of  a  moving 
shadow,  and  yet  the  broad  level  of  the  desert  lay  before 
him,  a  motionless  sea  of  gleaming  silver,  showing  upon 
its  shimmering  surface  not  any  sign  of  life.  Treverin 
doubted  not  that  his  own  figure  and  that  of  the  horse 
would  afford  an  easy  mark  for  a  lurking  foe  unless  he 


THE   DAYSMAN  101 

had  been  fortunate  enough  to  hit  upon  the  trail  of  the 
pursued  and  had  not  yet  outdistanced  the  pursuer  in 
the  race.  For  this  piece  of  good  luck,  however,  he  had 
been  forced  to  trust  to  chance  as  no  foot-print  could 
have  been  discovered  in  a  path  so  unstable. 

Scanning  his  surroundings  closely  he  had  begun  to 
ride  more  warily,  stopping  now  and  again  to  listen  for 
the  sound  of  voices,  searching  with  eager  eyes  the  fan- 
tastic shadows  cast  by  ghostly  forms  of  giant  cacti  that 
suggested  in  their  weird  contortions  strange,  ghoulish 
phantoms  of  the  night.  At  length  in  the  sheen  of  a 
stray  moonbeam  he  detected  on  the  sand  before  him  a 
glimmering  thread  of  gold  which  proved  upon  investi- 
gation to  be  nothing  less  than  a  small  hairpin,  and  it 
gave  him  the  instant  assurance  that  he  could  not  now 
be  off  their  track.  Further  on  the  suggestive  femi- 
ninity of  a  huge  ribbon  bow  left  him  somehow  with  a 
pathetic  impression  of  unbound  pig-tails  and  the  ap- 
pealing terror  of  a  frightened  child.  Not  long  after- 
wards he  caught  the  sense  of  a  low-toned  conversation 
that  came  to  him  faintly  above  the  whispering  silence 
of  running  water,  from  the  direction  of  a  thick  clump 
of  cottonwood  trees,  whose  dense  shade  concealed  the 
deeper  blackness  of  a  shallow  stream  beyond. 

' '  Oh,  Marie,  why  have  you  made  me  run — it  was  cow- 
ardly, it  is  childish — I  shall  never  cease  to  be  ashamed. 
Besides,  we  have  missed  a  real  stage  robbery.  How 
amusing  it  was  with  all  the  passengers  so  safe!" 

"But  Madamoiselle,  have  you  not  seen  zat  zey  are 
Indians?  Shall  zey  have  ze  scalp  of  Madamoiselle  and 
ze  fortune  of  Marie?  It  is  to  run  and  zen  to  rest  and 
zen  to  run  again." 


102  THE  DAYSMAN     4 

"But  in  what  direction  shall  we  run,  Marie?  There 
may  be  more  Indians  lurking  about,  who  knows?  Sh! 
Taisez-vous,  I  am  sure  I  heard  a  sound. 

Treverin,  who  had  been  waiting  in  the  shadow  of  a 
rock  planning  how  he  might  make  his  presence  known 
in  a  way  to  cause  least  alarm,  saw,  as  upon  a  stage,  the 
stealthy  approach  of  a  blanketed  form  creeping  from 
the  opposite  direction  across  a  moonlit  space  that  lay 
just  beyond  the  cottonwoods. 

"Ah,  mon  Dieu,  it  eez  un  sauvage!  Fly,  Madamoi- 
selle,  fly!" 

"Taisez,  Marie,  I  am  not  afraid."  And  to  Treverin 'a 
horror  an  erect  childish  figure  walked  straight  forward 
into  the  light. 

The  Indian,  if  such  he  were,  whose  leering  counte- 
nance, besmeared  with  paint,  showed  grotesquely  from 
under  a  feather  head-dress  that  had  gotten  ludicrously 
awry,  seemed  surprised  at  the  apparition  that  had  sud- 
denly confronted  him.  For  a  moment  he  stood  silently 
before  the  slip  of  a  girl,  whose  disheveled  hair  caught 
and  held  the  distant  splendor  of  the  moon  like  fine 
threads  of  spun  gold,  and  then  with  a  queer  little  grunt 
that  sounded  strangely  out  of  harmony  with  his  sav- 
age appearanve  he  demanded  in  a  deep  guttural  voice, 
"Must  give  gold  brick  to  Apache  Sam." 

"You  have  been  misinformed,  we  have  no  gold 
brick,"  replied  Carroll,  coldly,  "but  I  shall  be  glad  to 
pay  you  liberally  if  you  will  show  us  the  way  to  the 
nearest  town." 

The  artless  guile  with  which  she  appealed  to  his  cu- 
pidity and  at  the  same  time  challenged  any  latent 


THE    DAYSMAN  103 

mercy  that  might  lie  dormant  in  his  nature  was  not 
without  its  effect  upon  the  red-skin,  who  hesitated  a 
moment  as  though  debating  inwardly  whether  it  were 
wiser  to  assume  the  character  of  a  friend  or  to  main- 
tain the  attitude  of  a  foe.  His  keen  eyes,  however, 
which  had  penetrated  the  friendly  gloom  of  the  cotton- 
woods,  seemed  to  detect  something  there  which  remind- 
ed him  of  what  had  well-  nigh  escaped  his  memory,  and 
pushing  past  the  fearless  child  he  approached  the 
crouching  figure  of  the  terror-stricken  maid,  whose 
tragic  cries  seemed  to  have  little  effect  upon  his  stolid 
silence. 

"Oh,  monsieur  le  Sauvage,"  as  he  attempted  to 
wrench  the  brown  pertemanteu  from  her  frantic  grasp, 
"I  assure  you  I  have  not  ze  gold — it  ezz  but  some  slips 
of  paper  zat  I  have  save  all  zeze  years."  And  Carroll, 
running  back  into  the  shadows  to  the  support  of  poor 
Marie,  remembered  long  afterwards  how  this  strange 
Indian  had  replied:  "Too  thin  fer  a  yarn,  my  girl; 
paper  savin'  don't  sound  nat'ral,  even  in  a  furriner." 

In  the  confusion  of  the  scuffle,  however,  the  possible 
significance  of  his  unmistakable  English  did  not  pene- 
trate her  understanding.  She  was  fully  aware,  how- 
ever, of  his  horrible  appearance ;  she  was  only  conscious 
of  the  importance  of  saving  the  maid  and  her  cherished 
belongings  from  the  ruthless  grip  of  this  outrageous 
creature. 

"How  dare  you?"  she  demanded  fiercely,  standing 
before  him  with  flashing  eyes — a  small  tempest  of  in- 
dignation— "handle  a  woman  in  such  a  fashion?  You 
shall  not  have  the  bag  nor  will  you  touch  its  contents." 


104  THE  DAYSMAN 

And  with  the  imperious  gesture  of  an  autocrat  she 
seized  the  unoffending  piece  of  luggage  from  the  re- 
laxed fingers  of  the  maid,  and  tossing  it  behind  her, 
faced  him  like  a  little  fury. 

Enraged  by  this  unlooked-for  opposition,  the  burly 
figure  advanced  upon  her  threateningly  with  uplifted 
hand  and  menacing  look,  and  with  what  fierce  intention 
there  was  no  time  to  discover,  for  suddenly  he  found 
himself  looking  into  a  pair  of  unflinching  eyes  some- 
what above  the  level  of  his  own,  while  a  determined 
voice  suggested  with  cool  irony  that  if  the  noble  Indian 
had  quite  finished  bullying  the  women,  he  might  feel 
equal  to  tackling  a  man. 

Apache  Sam,  balked  of  his  purpose,  eyed  the  intru- 
der savagely,  but  the  impatient  click  of  a  revolver  still 
courteously  concealed  from  view  (which  sounded,  how- 
ever suspiciously  near)  warned  him  that  there  might  be 
more  to  reckon  with  than  this  gentlemanly  stranger's 
pleasant  personality.  Moreover,  as  his  quick  hearing 
had  caught  the  approaching  sound  of  distant  voices,  he 
decided  not  to  risk  the  danger  of  delay,  and  drawing 
from  the  folds  of  his  guady  blanket  a  pistol,  which  he 
aimed  directly  at  the  child,  he  began  to  back  cautiously 
down  the  steep  embankment. 

Carroll,  white  and  startled,  following  his  movements 
with  fascinated  eyes,  saw  him  vanish  slowly  in  the  deep 
ravine,  watched  him  swinging  out  from  a  gnarled  old 
tree,  to  which  for  an  instant  he  had  seemed  to  cling  with 
the  thumb  and  finger  of  a  mutilated  hand. 

Covering  him  closely  with  his  own  weapon,  Treverin 
had  followed,  not  daring  to  fire  lest  the  angry  ruffian 


THE   DAYSMAN  105 

might  wreak  a  hasty  vengeance  upon  the  helpless  child, 
and  at  length  from  the  very  edge  of  the  precipice, 
blindly  he  fired  into  the  night:  to  be  answered  only  by 
a  mocking  laugh,  as  Apache  Sam,  with  a  yell  of  tri- 
umph fled  away  through  the  murky  gloom  of  the  nar- 
row canyon. 

Disappointed  and  chagrined  at  having  been  so  clev- 
erly outwitted  by  an  astute  villian,  Treverin  began 
slowly  to  retrace  his  steps  across  the  open  space  to 
where  Carroll  and  the  maid  had  been  left  for  but  a  mo- 
ment in  the  shadow  of  the  trees.  But  hardly  had  he 
reached  what  he  thought  must  be  the  spot  where  the 
so-called  Apache  had  first  drawn  his  wretched  gun, 
when  the  flash  of  something  white  caught  his  wander- 
ing eye,  and  stooping,  he  picked  a  scrap  of  paper  from 
the  ground. 

It  proved  to  be  a  clipping  from  a  Tucson  paper  and 
he  read  without  difficulty  by  the  brilliant  light  of  the 
waning  moon  several  marked  items  relative  to  certain 
rich  strikes  in  the  old  Rajah  Mine.  They  told  him  lit- 
tle, however,  which  he  had  not  already  learned  from  the 
clever  speculations  of  the  driver  of  the  stage,  and  he 
was  on  the  point  of  parting  with  the  grimy  slip  when  A 
word  on  its  margin  made  him  pause  and  finally  pocket 
it  as  an  interesting  find.  For — to  a  train  of  evidence 
which  memory  had  started  but  a  fortnight  ago  in  a  city 
hotel — chance  had  been  adding  items  bit  by  bit  until 
now  in  the  stillness  of  the  open  desert  he  believed  he 
had  found  a  pretty  good  clue.  But,  on  the  whole,  it 
would  be  wiser  to  wait  until  there  should  be  time  to 
prove  his  theory  and  occasion  would  demand  its  ex- 
planation. 


106  THE  DAYSMAN 

Marie — ministering  gently  to  her  little  mistress  (who 
had  succumbed,  it  appeared,  to  the  weakness  of  fainting 
as  soon  as  the  dread  Apache  Sam  had  withdrawn  from 
her  his  exclusive  and  rather  trying  attention) — began, 
as  soon  as  he  approached  the  retreat,  to  pour  out  her 
gratitude  for  their  deliverance  in  voluble  French,  but 
Treverin,  boyishly  annoyed  at  having  failed  in  making 
an  interesting  capture,  was  in  no  mood  to  be  lauded  as  a 
hero,  and  therefore  with  the  purpose  of  sparing  himself 
any  more  foolish  nonsense  he  went  forward  to  meet  the 
party  of  rescuers,  forestalling  any  questions  by  the 
brief  explanation  that  his  own  arrival  had  been  too 
tardy  to  admit  of  his  rendering  any  special  aid,  and  that 
he  believed  the  young  lady  had  been  badly  frightened, 
but  was  recovering  rapidly. 

Lingering  in  the  moonlight  the  little  group  waited 
just  beyond  the  shadow  of  the  trees,  discussing  in  low 
tones  the  escape  of  the  desperado,  while  Marie  applied 
restoratives  with  the  practical  air  of  a  veteran,  and  Doc- 
tor Wendling  wandered  back  and  forth  disconsolately, 
reporting  now  and  then  the  progress  of  the  patient. 
She  startled  him  at  last  by  "coming  to"  with  a  sudden- 
ness that  quite  took  his  breath  away,  and  by  declaring 
herself  more  than  able  to  walk  to  the  stage  as  soon  as 
her  hair  had  been  straightened  out. 

When  this  last  announcement  had  been  conveyed  to 
them  by  the  relieved  Doctor,  Treverin,  who  had  been 
delaying  only  as  long  as  he  thought  his  horse  might  be 
of  service,  took  leave  of  the  band  of  self-appointed  de- 
liverers just  as  the  first  faint  streaks  of  a  lovely  dawn 
crept  along  the  mountains  toward  the  East,  and  when, 


THE   DAYSMAN  10? 

five  minutes  later,  Carroll  joined  her  fellow-passengers, 
eager  to  express  her  warm  appreciation  of  his  prompt 
relief,  they  showed  her  where  the  figure  of  a  stalwart 
youth  (of  whom  none  could  give  the  name)  was  out- 
lined sharply  on  the  brightening  sky. 


108  THE  DAYSMAN 


CHAPTER    IX. 

She  who  knows  and  knows  not  that  she  knows,  she  is  asleep — 

wake  her. 
She    who   knows   and   knows   that   she   knows,    she   is   wise — 

follow  her. 

— Arabian  Proverb. 

THE  mail  was  in.  "Weighted  with  possible  problems, 
freighted  with  probable  memories,  out  of  the  far  away 
East  it  had  come  into  a  bleak  little  mining  camp,  and 
its  advent  had  brought  John  Treverin  again  to  the  vital 
point  of  decision.  Opportunity  was  once  more  face  to 
face  with  responsibility  and  the  question  of  where  alle- 
giance lay  was  still  unanswered. 

Richard  Wood  had  handed  the  letters  to  him,  in  si- 
lence— a  long,  thin  envelope  bearing  the  name  of  a 
New  York  law  firm  and  several  shorter  ones,  more  bulky 
perhaps  as  to  substance,  less  definite,  no  doubt,  as  to 
fact,  and  "the  boy"  had  received  them  in  the  usual 
way,  without  comment,  his  only  sign  of  interest  a  curi- 
ous little  quiver  of  nostril,  a  sudden  uplift  of  head, 
which  Wood  had  learned  to  recognize  as  individual 
signs  of  suppressed  excitement — the  scenting  as  it  were 
of  a  battle  from  afar. 

It  had  been  almost  two  years  since  "the  boy'*  (for 
Treverin  had  claimed  his  old  place  in  the  affections  of 
Richard  Wood)  had  returned  to  Arizona.  Slow  years 
of  progress  in  the  actual  experience  of  practical  min- 


THE   DAYSMAN  100 

ing — years  which  had  given  him  a  more  intelligent  ap- 
preciation of  the  vast  resources  of  the  Territory,  years 
which  had  brought  to  him  a  deeper  realization  of  her 
very  definite  needs.  Had  they  left  him  likewise  with 
first  enthusiasms  dulled,  or  was  it  simply  that  he  had 
come  to  regret  his  hasty  surrender  of  that  greater  power 
which  might  have  helped  in  the  realization  of  dreams 
that  had  begun  to  formulate? 

The  morning  was  too  full  to  admit  of  inward  specu- 
lation, for  Wood  had  come  out  to  the  mine  to  talk  over 
plans  for  further  development,  and  therefore,  after  a 
hasty  perusal  of  his  mail,  the  younger  man  had  rele- 
gated to  the  background  personal  matters,  which  could 
wait,  and  had  devoted  his  attention  to  the  business  in 
hand. 

After  luncheon,  however,  which  they  had  eaten  in 
the  pretty  little  bungalow  that  "the  boy"  now  called 
home,  Treverin  was  seized  with  a  sudden  inspiration, 
and  drawing  the  long  envelope  from  his  pocket  he 
tossed  it  over  to  "Wood. 

"I  wish  you'd  read  it,  Rick,"  he  said.  "I  believe  I 
need  advice."  And  then  he  had  left  his  senior  for  an 
hour  of  solitude  in  the  cozy  den  while  he  himself  went 
down  to  the  mine. 

Richard  Wood,  seated  at  "the  boy's"  desk,  drew 
from  the  envelope,  which  somehow  didn't  seem  to  fit, 
a  letter  which  he  began  in  some  surprise  and  continued 
— not  without  wonder. 

"Dear  old  Jack"  (it  read).  "It  has  seemed  ages 
since  we  last  heard  from  you,  and  I  am  longing  for  one 
of  the  minutely  descriptive  letters  which  you  never 


110  THE  DAYSMAN 

write.  The  telegram  and  short  billets-doux  have  been 
delightful  with  their  quaint  other-world-looking  post- 
marks and  suggestive  phrases.  How  I  envy  you  the 
rides  through  magnificent  mountain  passes  and  along 
the  very  edges  of  precipices.  I  am  sure  one  could  find 
something  amusing  even  in  the  dear  little  mining  camp 
which  seems  not  to  have  aroused  your  enthusiasm.  If 
only  you  half  realized  how  we  have  been  prosing  along 
here  perhaps  you  might  appreciate  the  undiscovered  ro- 
mance of  your  surroundings. 

"Of  course  there  was  the  usual  exodus  at  the  ap- 
pointed season,  and  everybody  is  'in  camp'  for  the  sum- 
mer, but  there  are  the  same  people  and  the  same  dull 
routine  that  one  has  known  for  years,  varied  only  by  a 
few  more  bizarre  attempts  at  architecture  and  our 
many  spectacular  efforts  to  be  original.  Even  the  nat- 
ural beauty  of  the  sea  is  rather  trying,  as  it  only  suc- 
ceeds in  emphasizing  by  invidious  comparison  the 
depths  of  our  degeneracy  and  the  height  of  our  folly. 
I  wonder  sometimes  that  it  doesn't  look  us  into  quiet- 
ness as  the  stern  frown  of  the  proverbial  parent  is 
said  to  rebuke  into  calmness  the  naughty  moods  of 
an  obstreperous  child,  but  we  have  no  reverence  left  foi 
real  majesty;  it  is  only  the  artificial  display  of  a  mock 
grandeur  that  has  the  power  to  move  us. 

"Pray  don't  accuse  me  of  being  pessimistic — cynical 
women  are  so  unlovely — and  seriously,  I  believe  the 
trouble  is  that  I  need  a  change.  I  think  I  can  detect 
through  my  symptoms  the  incipient  stages  of  that  fell 
disease  which  some  one  has  described  as  a  'wasting  con- 
sumption of  energies,'  and  before  it  quite  undermines 


THE   DAYSMAN  111 

such  constitution  as  I  may  possess  I  should  like  to  try 
if  higher  altitudes,  beyond  the  dead  levels  of  existence, 
might  not  effect  a  cure.  There  is  another  reason  why 
I  should  like  to  get  away  which — or  rather  whom — I 
have  never  mentioned  to  you.  Now,  however,  he  has 
succeeded  in  creating  for  me  the  excitement  of  an  alter- 
cation with  grandad,  who,  by  the  way,  has  grown  more 
difficult  to  manage  every  month  since  your  departure. 
He  misses  you  terribly,  although  the  old  dear  wouldn't 
have  any  one  imagine  it.  I  know  how  to  make  allow- 
ances, however:  at  least  I  have  flattered  myself  that  I 
play  the  part  of  patient  Griselda  'most  excellently 
well.' 

"But  to  return  to  the  objectional  topic — he  is,  let  us 
say  (remember,  I  am  not  making  admissions)  a  citizen 
of  (but  on  the  whole  it  would  be  fairer  to  leave  his 
country  out  of  the  question),  who  assisted  as  best  man 
at  one  of  the  recent  international  weddings,  and  I  hap- 
pened to  be  maid  of  honor.  It  was  nothing  more  than 
a  pleasant  little  acquaintance  en  passant  until  I  visited 
Connie  in  England  last  summer,  where,  because  of  a 
few  tastes  in  common,  it  developed  into  something  of  a 
friendship.  Consequences  are  proving  rather  trouble- 
some, however,  as  grandad  didn't  deny  him  permission 
to  pay  his  addresses,  and  Cousin  Cornelia  has  been 
urging  his  suit  with  vehemence,  while  I  am  being  made 
to  realize  everything — including  my  years. 

"Why  can't  people  understand?  But  so  much  de- 
pends upon  the  point  of  view.  Grandad  thinks  mar- 
riage is  'the  only  sensible  career  for  a  woman';  Cousin 
Cornelia,  having  drawn  doleful  pictures  of  your  poor 


112  THE  DAYSMAN 

sister  in  future  throes  of  vain  regret,  reiterates  her 
well-known  American  indifference  to  titles  and  in  the 
same  breath  declares  that  'a  frank,  manly  fellow,  with 
the  historic  background  of  ancient  traditions  is  not  to 
be  despised.'  And  the  worst  of  it  is  that  he's  really 
exceedingly  nice — but,  to  misquote  wise  old  Willie 
Shakespeare  (who,  as  Connie  puts  it,  'said  a  few  things 
awfully  well'),  some  are  born  for  marriage,  some 
achieve  marriage  and  some  have  marriage  thrust  upon 
them.  Doesn't  Cornelia  impress  you  as  belonging  to 
the  third  class?  I've  always  regarded  Cousin  James  as 
a  sort  of  impersonal  atmosphere  of  the  proprieties — she 
is  most  in  character  as  a  chaperone,  you  know — and  his 
creation  of  the  mise  en  scene  while  she  holds  the  center 
of  the  stage  is  the  best  part  of  the  play.  Surely,  Con- 
nie, who  wears  so  triumphantly  the  most  desirable  title 
in  Europe,  might  be  said  to  have  achieved  marriage, 
while  I — well,  I  am  convinced  that  one  shouldn't  care 
to  belong  in  the  second  class,  that  one  couldn't  submit 
to  being  included  in  the  third,  and  as  for  the  first — ah, 
Jack,  that  is,  as  the  Poles  put  it,  to  'know  the  will  jf 
God,'  and  for  that  one  sometimes  has  to  wait. 

"I  wonder,  by  the  way,  how  grandad  would  charac- 
terize that  last  sentiment — may  heaven  defend  me  from 
ever  inviting  his  opinion  on  the  subject — and  yet  you, 
Jack,  are  not  less  intensely  practical;  but  then  I  hap- 
pen to  know  you  for  a  dreamer,  and  to  the  man  who 
cherishes  his  own  pet  vision  of  a  future  which  the  aver- 
age person  does  not  see,  is  not  even  business  a  matter  of 
sentiment  ? 

"No  doubt  grandad,  too,  has  had  his  dreams,  only 


THE   DAYSMAN  113 

they  have  gotten  confused  with  other  peoples'  and 
haven't  worked  out  his  way.  I  have  caught  glimpses  of 
them  through  mother's  diary — you  have  never  seen 
that,  Jack — I  found  it  only  a  short  time  ago  in  an  old 
trunk  upstairs.  Such  a  quaint  little  volume !  I  wish  I 
could  tell  you  about  it,  dear,  about  the  delicate  hand- 
writing that  fills  its  yellowing  pages  with  the  uncon- 
scious art  of  simple  narrative ;  about  the  fading  ink,  the 
faint  aroma  of  lavender  and  rose  leaves. 

I  imagine,  from  what  mother  writes,  that  grandad 
must  have  wanted  our  father  to  come  into  his  business. 
He  had  no  son  of  his  own,  you  understand,  and  he  be- 
lieved our  father  had  an  innate  capacity  for  success. 
Father  evidently  refused — it  seemed  to  be  a  point  of 
honor — he  felt  that  a  man  ought  to  make  his  own  way. 

"It  would  take  too  long  to  tell  the  whole  story  now; 
of  how  shortly  after  their  marriage  our  father  decided 
to  go  West;  of  how  mother  remained  in  New  York, 
where  I  was  born;  of  how,  later,  father  came  to  take 
her  to  the  dear  little  home  away  up  somewhere  in  glori- 
ous mountains  that  overlooked  a  lovely  valley  in  central 
Arizona;  of  how  I  was  left  to  the  tender  mercies  of 
Cousin  Cornelia  until  the  building  of  the  railroad 
should  have  made  the  journey  less  difficult  for  me. 

"Mother  herself  writes  delightfully  of  the  long  jour- 
ney over  the  plains;  tenderly,  of  her  homesick  longing 
for  me;  affectionately,  of  you;  and  enthusiastically  of 
your  friend,  Richard  Wood.  But  you  shall  read  it 
yourself,  some  day,  Jack.  Through  it  all  one  gains 
somehow  such  large  impressions  of  life — so  many  things 
are  explained,  and  I  find  myself  wondering  if,  in  view 


114  THE  DAYSMAN 

of  the  past,  there  isn't  a  chance  that  you  and  grand- 
father might  work  together.  It  seems  to  me  that  things 
might  have  been  managed  more  wisely,  that  there  must 
be  a  way  to  a  better  understanding  if  only  each  of  you 
could  make  some  concessions  to  the  ideas  of  the  other. 
But  I  have  written  more  voluminously  than  I  dare  to 
realize.  I  shall  not  count  the  pages  and  neither  must 
you.  In  the  noncommittal  language  of  my  childish 
apology,  'if  Barbara  were  forgiven  this  time  perhaps 
she  might  not  do  it  again.'  At  any  rate,  regenerate  or 
unregenerate,  she  is  always 

"Affectionately  your  sister, 

"BARBARA  ELIZABETH  TREVERIN." 

Surprised  into  an  interest  that  deepened  as  he  read, 
Richard  Wood  had  come  to  the  end  of  the  letter  before 
it  occurred  to  him  that  there  must  have  been  some  mis- 
take, that  the  boy  was  much  too  fine  of  feeling  to  have 
submitted  to  the  scrutiny  of  other  eyes  than  those  for 
which  it  was  intended — for  any  reason  whatsoever — a 
letter  so  delicately  intimate  and  personal.  Of  this  he 
felt  convinced  even  before  a  closer  inspection  of  the 
long  envelope  had  revealed  to  him  its  legitimate  con- 
tents, which  proved  to  be  a  brief  note  from  Treverin's 
lawyers,  urging  his  consent  to  the  sale  of  the  Queen 
Elizabeth.  The  mine,  they  thought,  was  devouring 
more  than  its  share  of  the  small  income  which  had  come 
to  him  through  his  mother,  and,  as  an  offer  that  ap- 
pealed to  them  as  exceptionally  good,  had  just  been  re- 
ceived, they  strongly  advised  his  surrender  of  the 
property. 

This,  Richard  Wood  did  not  doubt,  was  the  subject 


THE   DAYSMAN  115 

upon  which  John  had  sought  his  advice.  As  for  the 
other  letter,  whose  contents  had  been  so  unrighteously 
absorbed — there  was  always  the  remote  possibility  that 
a  man  might  forget  what  he  had  no  business  to  know — 
Richard  Wood  smiled  at  his  own  sophistry.  At  any 
rate  he  decided  to  consign  the  subject  to  burial  in  the 
depths  of  his  consciousness,  and  to  be  kind  enough  to 
"the  boy"  to  spare  him  the  knowledge  of  that  acci- 
dental betrayal  of  confidence  for  which  no  doubt  he 
would  feel  a  very  genuine  regret. 

Fortune  seemed  to  favor  the  idea,  for  Richard  Wood 
discovered  upon  the  table,  with  a  bundle  of  circulars, 
that  had  arrived  in  the  morning's  mail,  an  envelope 
addressed  apparently  by  the  same  hand.  It  bore  the 
post-mark  of  a  summer  colony  which  was  attaining  un- 
pleasant notoriety  on  two  continents,  and  a  date  that 
left  no  question  as  to  its  having  been  at  one  time  the 
natural  mate  of  the  letter  whose  lost  pages  could  be  so 
easily  restored,  whose  straying  sentences  had  been  so 
successfully  buried. 

This,  then,  was  "the  boy's"  sister. 

The  eyes  of  Richard  Wood  were  upon  a  miniature 
that  must  have  ocupied  its  present  position  on  the  desk 
for  a  long  time.  The  mind  of  Richard  Wood  sought 
among  certain  unforgotten  phrases  for  the  key  to  an 
elusive  individuality  that  had  escaped  him,  somehow, 
in  the  conventional  perfection  of  detail  which  created 
the  atmosphere  of  the  picture.  Through  it  the  artist 
had  succeeded  in  conveying  an  exquisite  impression  of 
beautiful  womanhood.  There  was  dignity  of  concep- 
tion in  the  quiescent  grace  of  sloping  shoulders,  and 


116  THE  DAYSMAN 

the  setting  of  a  queenly  head  maintained  the  touch  of 
high  bred  repose  but  it  was  only  the  wonderful  brown 
hair  in  which  the  painter  had  caught  a  subtle  gleam 
of  copper  and  gold  with  a  hint  here  and  there  of  steel 
blue  lights — that  seemed  gloriously  alive.  The  por- 
trait had  "the  boy's"  grave  mouth,  with  its  alluring 
suggestion  of  a  hidden  capacity  for  humor,  but  a  smile 
in  the  eyes  had  veiled  their  depths  like  the  sun  on  sum- 
mer seas. 

By  what  strange  chance  had  he  failed  to  meet  this 
woman,  of  whom  he  had  heard  so  much,  of  whom,  until 
today,  he  had  known  so  little?  He  remembered  now 
that  she  was  frequently  abroad,  that  she  had  never 
been  in  town  when  he  had  happened  to  be  there. 

Believing  her  to  be  essentially  of  her  own  world,  he 
had  not  been  conscious  of  personal  deprivation;  he  had 
wondered,  rather,  at  her  vital  significance  in  "the 
boy's"  life,  had  feared,  sometimes,  her  unquestioned  in- 
fluence upon  "the  boy's"  mind.  But  he  saw  her,  now, 
as  a  link  in  the  chain  that  must  hold  "the  boy"  to  his 
duty. 


THE   DAYSMAN  117 


CHAPTER  X. 

"Talent   does  what  it  can :   genius  what  it  must." 

"WELL,  Rick,  what  do  you  think  of  the  advice  of 
Grandis  &  Grandis?"  It  was  the  voice  of  Treverin 
that  broke  in  upon  the  quietness  of  the  room. 

And  Richard  Wood,  handing  back  the  long  thin  en- 
velope to  its  owner,  merely  asked,  "Do  you  think  you 
can  afford  to  keep  the  mine?" 

Treverin  looked  surprised,  and  then  he  also  tempor- 
ized with  a  question  that  was  almost  indignant  in  its 
protest.  "Was  it  not  you  who  advised  so  strongly 
against  its  sale  less  than  two  years  ago?" 

"Since  that  time,  however,  conditions  have  changed." 
Richard  Wood  spoke  with  quiet  firmness. 

"Are  you  referring  to  the  break  with  my  grand- 
father?" "The  boy"  was  suddenly  on  the  defensive, 
ready  to  take  up  the  gauntlet,  if  criticism  had  been  im- 
plied; not  sorry  at  the  prospect  of  a  fight;  glad,  it 
seemed,  of  the  chance  to  argue  out  a  vexing  problem. 

"I  was  stating  a  patent  fact."  Richard  Wood  ig- 
nored the  opportunity  for  argument. 

"A  fact,  however,  that  can  have  nothing  to  do  with 
existing  circumstances."  "The  boy"  was  cooler  now 
in  his  conscious  grasp  of  unanswerable  finalities. 

"Conditions  in  the  past  had  nothing  to  do  with  my 


118  THE  DAYSMAN 

former  convictions  and  existing  circumstances  might 
have  a  very  decided  bearing  upon  my  advice  in  the 
present."  There  was  not  a  hint  of  reproof  in  the  tone 
and  yet  Treverin  recognized  instantly  its  note  of 
warning.  It  made  him  realize  suddenly  that  here  was 
not  a  man  who  would  volunteer  counsel;  it  helped  him 
to  remember  that  Richard  Wood  had  not  at  any  time 
expressed  an  opinion  upon  the  subject  of  his  difference 
with  his  grandfather.  And,  therefore,  with  a  frank 
apology  for  his  own  scant  courtesy,  "the  boy"  went 
on,  with  more  control. 

"Conditions,  have,  as  you  say,  changed;  but  I  do  not 
yet  see  how  that  could  have  been  prevented  unless 
I  had  been  willing  to  give  up  this  mine.  It  was  my 
father's  pet  project;  upon  which  the  best  energies  of 
his  life  had  been  expended — what  else  could  one  have 
done,  Rick?" 

Treverin  spoke  quietly,  now,  with  less  assurance — 
as  one  who  finds  himself  in  darkness  before  he  has  come 
to  acknowledge  the  absence  of  light. 

"Are  you  quite  sure  that  your  father  would  have 
approved  of  this  separation?"  Richard  Wood  used 
the  probe  with  the  fine  tenderness  of  the  searcher  after 
truth. 

"You  are  probably  not  aware  that  my  father  him- 
self was  called  upon,  at  one  time,  to  make  just  such  a 
choice,  and" — "the  boy's"  pause  was  impressive — "he 
decided  exactly  as  I  have  done." 

"Have  you  ever  thought,"  Richard  Wood  chose  his 
words  with  careful  deliberation,  "that  your  father 
possibly  realized  the  mistake  of  his  radical  position; 


THE   DAYSMAN  119 

that  he  may,  indeed,  have  trusted  much  to  time  and 
to  you  for  the  adjustment  of  this  unfortunate  differ- 
ence; that  he  might,  in  fact,  have  wished  to  put  it  in 
your  power  to  make  some  reparation?" 

"You  think,  then,  that  I  could  have  avoided  this 
issue?" 

"I  believe  firmly,  from  what  you  have  told  me  of 
that  final  conversation,  that  your  grandfather  would 
not  have  forced  it." 

"He  had  determined,  however,  that  I  should  become 
identified  with  his  interests." 

"And  why  should  you  not  have  done  so?" 

"The  boy's"  look  of  amazed  incredulity  was  not  lost 
upon  Richard  Wood,  who  waited,  however,  for  the 
cold  dignity  of  his  reply.  "Because  I  believed  that  my 
first  duty  was  to  my  father,  because  I  was  unwilling 
to  surrender  my  allegiance  to  the  West." 

"Loyalty  has  never  demanded  failure  as  its  due,  and 
the  faithfulness  with  which  a  man  faces  defeat  is  not 
proof,  in  itself,  that  his  choice  has  been  the  right  one." 

"You  would  seem  to  doubt  my  ability  to  succeed." 
There  was  a  note  of  disappointment  in  "the  boy's" 
voice,  a  shade  of  something  like  bitterness." 

"I  should  hardly  put  it  that  way."  The  sympathetic 
tone  of  the  friend  had  at  length  given  place  to  the  cool, 
even  reflection  of  the  man  of  affairs.  "But  the  idea  of 
success  as  'a  series  of  correct  decisions'  rather  appeals 
to  me.  It  implies  the  importance  of  starting  well." 

"Is  there  no  virtue  in  beginning  at  the  bottom?" 
There  was  irony  in  the  question — clearly,  "the  boy" 
was  hurt. 


120  THE  DAYSMAN 

"Not  when  a  man  has  been  given  his  chance  higher 
up.  The  object  of  climbing  is  to  arrive  where  breadth 

of  view  inspires  development.  Unless" Richard 

Wood  smiled  whimsically,  "one  finds  pleasure  and 
profit  in  the  athletic  art." 

"To  be  perfectly  plain,  Rick,  you  are  inclined  to 
think  me  a  fool,  and" the  firm  lips  twitched  slight- 
ly Wood  caught  their  brave  effort  at  humor,  their 
courageous  hint  of  a  smile.  "I'm  far  from  sure  that 
you're  wrong." 

"Not  that,  dear  boy."  The  grip  of  his  hand  on  Tre- 
verin's  shoulder,  the  light  of  affection  in  his  eye,  spoke 
a  man's  understanding  of  a  man.  "There  are  few 
of  us  who  are  always  wise,  and  not  many,  I  fear,  could 
be  found  as  sincere.  I  have  sometimes  wondered,"  he 
went  on,  reflectively,  "if  the  measure  of  a  man's  ca- 
pacity is  not,  after  all,  his  ability  to  see  and  profit  by 
his  own  mistakes.  We  all  make  them,  more  or  less,  and 
it  is  only  prompt  discovery  and  swift  retrieval  that  can 
rob  a  mistake  of  its  power  to  harm." 

"And  it  is  so  much  easier  to  find  truth  in  the  ab- 
stract than  to  acknowledge  it  in  the  concrete.  There 
is  my  father's  ambition  to  make  of  the  Queen  Elizabeth 
a  big  mine,  and" 

"Your  own  inability  to  accomplish  that  result  for 
his  sake  or  for  your  own  without  capital,"  finished 
Wood,  decisively. 

"I  had  counted  on  the  chance  of  gaining  financial 
power,  through  my  own  efforts,  in  time.  Have  not  oth- 
ers done  as  much?"  The  question  was  significant;  the 


THE   DAYSMAN  121 

tone  was  again  combative,  and  to  Richard  Wood  there 
seemed  a  need  for  surrender  without  reserve. 

"Strength  rarely  comes  through  a  fatal  error  in 
judgment,  and  the  deliberate  closing  of  a  definite  ave- 
nue of  present  opportunity  is  a  poor  augur  of  future 
success  along  indefinite  channels." 

"Which  is  just  another  way  of  advising  me  to  let 
go  of  the  mine,  to  abandon,  for  the  present,  whatever 
it  represents  of  my  father's  dreams  and  my  own  and  to 
return  East  for  the  purpose  of  putting  my  nose  to  that 
grindstone  which  my  grandfather  has  so  generously 
offered  for  the  furtherance  of  his  own  ambitions." 
There  was  sarcasm  in  the  tone  and  a  lingering  dread 
of  yielding,  but  relief  had  crept  into  the  eyes  and  the 
clearer  light  of  conviction. 

"I  think  you  are  on  the  right  track,  at  last,"  said 
Richard  Wood,  quietly. 

"The  boy"  was  packing  upstairs. 

Richard  Wood,  in  the  den  below,  heard  him  whistling 
softly  the  care-free  tunes  of  childhood,  heard  him  sing- 
ing now  and  then  some  ringing  strain  of  boyhood,  and 
smiled  a  little  sadly  as  he  caught  the  dawn  of  manhood 
in  faint  prophetic  glimpses  through  the  levity  of 
youth. 

Presently  the  gay  little  snatches  of  song  ceased  and 
a  laughing  voice  demanded. 

"Tampa,  you  rascal,  bring  it  here,  bring  it  here,  I 
say."  And  then,  with  sudden  annoyance,  "Confound 
his  impudence,  where  has  the  dog  gone?" 

Two  minutes  later  the  sound  of  pattering  feet  on 


122  THE  DAYSMAN 

the  stairs  was  followed  by  a  heavier  tread,  and  a  rough 
and  tumble  descent  ended  in  a  lively  scuffle  between 
dog  and  master  at  the  very  entrance  of  the  room.  Fi- 
nally Treverin,  laughing  and  breathless,  threw  him- 
self into  a  chair,  while  the  dog — a  beautiful  collie — 
stood  before  him  panting,  but  respectfully  triumphant, 
and  wagging  an  apologetic  tail. 

"Rick,"  began  Treverin,  in  mock  seriousness,  ignor- 
ing the  canine  presence,  "I  want  your  opinion  of  a 
dog"  (Yampa's  tail  wagged  harder),  "who  has  so 
far  forgotten  his  training  as  to  be  guilty" — Treverin 's 
voice  was  low  and  stern — "of  disobedience."  The  mo- 
tion of  Yampa's  tail  ceased  suddenly  and  his  eyes 
pleaded  for  extenuation.  "And  has  so  far  forgotten 
his  morals  as  to  be  guilty  of  petty  larceny."  Trever- 
in's  brows  came  together  in  a  heavy  frown,  and  the 
dog's  expressive  tail  was  incriminating  in  its  limp  de- 
jection. 

"The  case  looks  serious."  Richard  Wood's  low  in- 
dulgent laugh  brought  hastily  around  in  his  direction 
the  dispirited  Yampa's  hopeful  glance. 

"It  is  serious,  Rick,"  in  Treverin 's  voice  was  well- 
feigned  wrath ;  "  it 's  appallling  when  you  come  to  think 
of  it."  Yampa's  dignity  could  bear  up  no  longer  in 
an  atmosphere  surcharged  with  his  master's  displeasure, 
and  dropping  disconsolately  to  the  floor,  with  his  head 
upon  his  fore-paws,  he  endured  his  arraignment  in  re- 
proachful silence. 

"The  motive  of  this  outrageous  crime,"  Treverin 
went  on  impressively,  "was,  I  fear,  jealousy,  which, 
unfortunately,  Rick,  the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  was  known 


THE   DAYSMAN  123 

to  entertain  for  a  certain  photograph  that  has  occupied 
a  position  of  prominence  in  his  master's  room."  The 
dog,  fully  conscious  that  his  misdeeds  were  under  dis- 
cussion, listened  gravely  to  the  statement  of  his  case, 
glancing  quickly  from  man  to  man,  for  the  faintest 
sign  of  human  understanding. 

"Sit  up,  Hassayampa!  Look  me  in  the  eye,  sir! 
Have  you,  or  have  you  not,  been  seen  to  eye  that  pic- 
ture wickedly  when  your  master  chanced  to  glance  in 
its  direction?  Did  you  or  did  you  not  bark  quite  furi- 
ously on  one  ocasion  when  a  remark,  that  was  not  un- 
friendly, happened  to  be  addressed  to  the  person  it 
portrays?  Were  you,  or  were  you  not,  heard  to  growl, 
in  savage  accents,  only  today  when  that  same  picture 
was  taken  down  to  be  packed  and  placed  upon  a  chair, 
and  will  you,  or  will  you  not,  admit  its  disappearance 
while  my  back  was  turned?" 

The  dog's  expression  was  enigmatical  as  he  gazed 
into  his  master's  eyes  and  Treverin,  turning  to  Wood, 
asked,  dramatically,  "Has  he  chewed  and  knawed  it 
as  he  might  have  done  with  a  bone?"  Yampa's  tail 
expressed  humiliation  at  the  suggestion  of  such  an  utter 
lack  of  discrimination.  "Or  has  he  simply  worried  it 
in  the  way  he  treats  a  rat?"  The  dog  looked  his  dis- 
gust. "At  least  he  must  have  hidden  it,  but  he  will 
not  show  me  where." 

"Attention,  Hasssayampa!  Do  you,  or  do  you  not, 
plead  guilty  to  this  theft?"  Yampa's  head  went  up 
proudly,  while  Yampa's  canine  soul  was  pleading 
dumbly  for  comprehension  of  the  motive  that  may  in- 
spire an  act. 


124  THE  DAYSMAN 

"Ah,  Rick,"  and  Treverin  shook  his  head  hopelessly, 
as  he  caught  the  look  of  adoration  in  the  dog's  eyes, 
"we  had  better  dismiss  the  case.  This  dog,  I  fear,  is 
worthy  of  his  name." 

The  little  episode,  with  its  appealing  byplay  of  ex- 
pression, Eichard  Wood  had  watched  in  amused  silence, 
and  had  forgotten  as  soon  as  it  was  over.  On  the  fol- 
lowing evening,  however,  circumstances  brought  it  to 
his  mind. 

Having  said  good-bye  to  Treverin  and  having  watched 
his  train  pull  slowly  out  of  the  junction,  Richard 
Wood  had  returned  to  his  own  car  and  to  the  business 
acquaintances  who  were  to  accompany  him  upon  the 
journey  South. 

The  day  had  been  a  hard  one,  and  that  recent  part- 
ing with  "the  boy,"  not  the  lightest  of  its  burdens  to 
this  man  whose  life — so  broad  in  its  diffusion  of  pleas- 
ure, so  wide  in  its  wealth  of  impersonal  devotions — 
had  left  him  somehow  strangely  athirst  for  a  deeper 
draught  of  the  wine  of  joy. 

His  love  for  the  Territory  had  been  the  one  romance 
of  his  youth — absorbing  to  the  point  of  exclusion — and 
he  had  found  her  a  jealous  mistress.  In  her  need  of 
him  she  assumed  a  significance  that  was  quite  intimate 
and  personal,  and  it  made  her  demands  upon  him  seem 
legitimate  as  well  as  right. 

The  grand  passion  of  a  large  nature  is  distinctive  in 
its  inspiration,  and  leaves  little  room  for  a  weakening 
indulgence  in  minor  emotions.  Deep-rooted  affections 
may  spring  up  in  its  shadow,  but  their  separate  and 
individual  strength  will  lie  in  the  fact  that  they  are 


THE   DAYSMAN  125 

conservative  of,  rather  than  destructive  to,  the  original 
heart-throb. 

Late  in  the  evening,  however,  he  had  left  his  guests 
for  the  moment  and,  alone  in  his  stateroom,  was  search- 
ing through  his  luggage  for  a  set  of  drawings  which 
they  had  expressed  a  desire  to  see,  when  he  came  upon 
a  photograph  that  he  had  never  noticed  before. 

Held  to  the  light,  the  picture  revealed  a  girl  in  a 
quaint  and  dainty  frock  making  her  curtesy  to  the 
world.  Reluctant,  she  paused  at  the  threshold  of  life, 
her  smile  expectant,  her  eager  youth  as  buoyant  with 
hope  as  an  idyl  of  Spring,  but  she  carried  a  sheaf  of 
Autumn  flowers. 

They  were  long-stemmed  beauties,  whose  glorious 
heads  swept  across  the  filmy  folds  of  her  gown  with  a 
certain  air  of  stately  grace  that  harmonized  with  an- 
other ideal  than  that  expressed  through  the  girlish  love- 
liness of  her  sweet  immaturity.  It  was  as  though 
these  magnificent  chrysanthemums,  in  their  insistent 
whiteness  and  cool  remoteness,  arrogated  to  themselves 
the  proprietary  right  to  maintain  for  her  the  theory 
that  perfection  of  type  is  only  produced  through  that 
high  degree  of  cultivation  which  had  contributed  to 
their  own  rare  development.  Dominating  as  they  were, 
however,  in  their  subtle  suggestion  of  an  idea,  the  flow- 
ers could  not  quite  create  the  atmosphere  of  a  picture 
whose  vague  power  lay  in  the  fact  that  it  had  caught 
somehow  a  fleeting  expression  of  that  evanescent  light 
of  soul  which  was  held  in  the  mystery  of  her  eyes. 

Fearlessly  raised  to  his  very  own  he  could  read  them 
now  to  their  limpid  depths.  The  veil  of  the  miniature 


126  THE  DAYSMAN 

— here — was  withdrawn,  and  this  was  "the  boy's" 
sister. 

For  one  brief  moment  there  flashed  through  his  brain, 
like  the  music  of  half-forgotten  strains,  the  memory 
of  a  truant  phrase — a  phrase  which  he  could  not  quite 
forget:  "For  that,  one  sometimes  has  to  wait." 

Waiting — was  she  waiting  still?  While  Destiny 
dreams  there  is  always  hope — the  hope  of  fulfilled 
promise. 

But  the  photograph  was  placed  in  his  inner  pocket, 
with  Richard  Wood's  only  comment: 

"There  are  times  when  all  is  fair,  Yampa — when  a 
man  and  a  dog  claim  their  share  of  the  spoils." 


THE   DAYSMAN  127 


CHAPTER   XI. 

"And  the  gods  send  thread  for  a  web  begun." 

FOUR  o'clock  of  an  afternoon  in  mid-October  discov- 
ered Richard  Wood  ascending  one  of  those  steep  bridal- 
paths  that  are  to  be  found  limning  the  granite  walls  of 
grey,  old  mountains  which  guard  the  hidden  treasures 
of  a  mining  district  as  inaccessible  as  any  in  Arizona. 
His  horse  had  long  ago  dropped  into  that  easy  gait 
which  distinguishes  the  practiced  climber  from  the  no- 
vitiate, and  which  leaves  the  rider  sufficiently  free  from 
the  sensation  of  motion  to  enjoy  that  larger  exhilara- 
tion which  must  come  to  him  who  finds  himself,  all  at 
once,  poised,  as  it  were,  on  a  ledge  of  the  universe. 

For  the  initiated  the  whole  region  holds  a  wealth 
of  association  as  thrilling  and  as  varied  as  the  romance 
of  mining.  By  means  of  its  extricable  tangle  of  zig- 
zag trails  the  history  of  many  a  rich  vein  of  ore  may 
be  traced  in  much  the  same  way  that  rare  values  in  a 
priceless  canvas  are  defined  through  the  recognition 
of  the  earliest  master  strokes  of  original  genius. 

The  very  names  which  are  borne  in  upon  the  con- 
sciousness, as  the  eye  travels  across  miles  upon  miles 
of  unlimited  space  to  the  outermost  rim  of  a  far  hori- 
zon, suggest  tales  that  might  rival  those  of  "A  Thousand 
and  One  Nights"  in  their  picturesque  detail  of  descrip- 


128  THE  DAYSMAN 

tion — tales  which  bring  forth  indisputable  figures  to 
corroborate  their  almost  fabulous  profusion  of  state- 
ment as  to  values  in  silver  and  gold  ,tales  which  would 
seem  to  prove  the  reality  of  that  magic  touch  which  ex- 
plained away  so  many  doubts  to  an  oriental  imagina- 
tion. 

The  scenery  itself  would  form  an  impressive  back- 
ground for  the  setting  of  many  a  fanciful  story.  On 
the  left,  in  rock-ribbed  sternness,  the  pine-covered  hills 
rise  repellant  and  somber  in  their  unapproachable 
height.  On  the  right  and  below  is  the  sharp  declivity 
that  marks  a  sudden  breakdown  of  mighty  mountain 
into  cliff  and  narrow  canyons  and  isolated  peak,  which 
seem  to  have  tumbled  precipitately  toward  the  South, 
and  the  depths  of  a  bowl-shaped  depression  that  cre- 
ates a  veritable  basin  in  the  heart  of  the  hills.  Look- 
ing east  and  northward  a  broad  panorama  of  wide 
valley  stretches  away  in  swelling  earth-waves,  with 
fleeting  glimpses  here  and  there  of  a  delicate  tracery 
of  green  that  proclaims  where  living  waters  flow.  Far 
beyond  is  the  doubtful  contour  of  blue  mountain  mass- 
es, looming  vague  and  shadowy  in  the  distance,  and 
bringing  out  with  sharp  distinctness,  in  their  own  im- 
mediate foreground,  the  fantastic  sculpture  of  castel- 
lated buttes  and  the  rich  coloring  of  Nature's  painting 
on  the  weathered  rocks.  Gorgeous  and  variegated  is 
the  whimsical  ornamentation  of  those  rugged  crags  and 
tapering  pinnacles,  suggestive  of  the  towers  and  domes 
and  lofty  minarets  that  crown  the  decadent  splendor  of 
crumbling  Byzantine  ruins. 

Richard  Wood  had  almost  reached  the  crest  of  the 


THE   DAYSMAN  129 

divide — which  separates  those  two  small  creeks  whose 
fame  has  been  written  in  placer  gold — when  he  heard 
a  sharp  clatter  of  rolling  stones  and  the  beat  of  a  horse 's 
hoofs  overhead. 

The  path,  as  it  wound  upward  was  narrow  and  pre- 
cipitous, admitting  little  more  than  space  enough  for  a 
single  horse  and  his  rider.  Here  and  there  an  indenta- 
tion in  the  wall  of  rock,  at  the  left,  or  a  projecting 
promontory,  on  the  right,  afforded  some  width  and 
sufficient  safety  for  passage,  but  even  at  these  points 
there  was  need  of  more  caution  than  seemed  to  be 
manifested  by  the  rapid  approach  of  that  rushing 
steed. 

Nearer  and  nearer  it  came,  while  Richard  Wood, 
having  withdrawn  into  the  friendly  angle  of  a  shelter- 
ing crag,  watched  for  its  appearance  on  that  dusty 
trail  which  twisted  before  him,  in  short  turns,  up  and 
around  a  green  wall  of  mountain  with  the  clear  dis- 
tinctness of  white  lines  on  the  colored  surface  of  a 
map. 

To  one  who  could  judge  by  sound  alone,  the  oncom- 
ing horse  now  seemed  perilously  near.  Almost  above 
him,  at  times,  it  was  heard,  but  Richard  Wood  knew 
his  ground  too  well  to  miscalculate  the  number  of  min- 
utes that  must  elapse  before  he  could  catch  his  first 
view  of  this  unknown  rider  who  descended  upon  him 
with  such  reckless  and  precipitate  haste.  He  realized, 
moreover,  that  only  a  glimpse  would  be  vouchsafed  to 
him — that  he  would  probably  see  the  horseman's  face, 
might  even  hear  the  sound  of  his  voice — before  (if  he 
would)  he  could  touch  the  hand  of  the  stranger,  when 


130  THE  DAYSMAN 

at  length  they  should  meet  on  this  narrow  ledge,  where 
he  waited  alone.  For,  back  and  forth  on  the  mountain 
side — hither  and  yon — then  up  and  across,  much  in  the 
manner  one  sails  a  ship,  tacking  about  for  his  ulti- 
mate goal — was  the  way  a  man  must  follow  this  road. 

At  last  he  sighted  the  horse's  head  flashing  swiftly 
around  a  bend  that  was  high  above  him  and  far  away. 
The  foaming  mouth  and  flying  mane  told  him  of  the 
unexplained,  even  before  a  closer  view  showed  him  the 
animal's  blood-shot  eye. 

Onward  it  came  at  topmost  speed — as  fleet  of  foot  as 
a  mountain  goat.  Wild  and  unseeing  with  fright  and 
fear,  crazed  to  the  point  of  madness,  it  seemed.  Glanc- 
ing neither  to  right  nor  left,  it  stared  straight  ahead 
like  a  beast  pursued  by  some  nemesis  of  a  forgotten 
past,  like  a  horse  who  sought  to  stay  his  doom  by  a  last 
wild  race  with  the  horrors  of  death. 

Looking  along  the  tightened  lines  for  the  hand  that 
governed  the  champing  bit,  Eichard  Wood  was,  at 
once  aware  that  a  woman  was  holding  the  bridle-rein 
— a  woman  whose  face  was  white  and  set,  whose  lips, 
he  saw,  were  tensely  drawn. 

The  sun  had  transformed  the  flying  dust  to  the  rose- 
colored  tints  of  enveloping  clouds  which  seemed  to 
have  borne  her  through  the  air,  at  a  perilous  pace,  to 
these  rocky  crags.  Among  them  she  rode  as  the  Val- 
kyries ride  with  the  courage  of  hope  and  the  strength 
of  faith  and  nerves  that  were  steeled  to  a  fine  control 
that  is  rarely  seen  in  the  weaker  sex. 

Her  peril  was  clear  to  Richard  Wood,  but  how  to  save 
her  was  scarcely  as  plain.  To  attempt  and  to  fail  would 


THE   DAYSMAN  131 

but  double  her  risk  and  the  hazard  of  trial  made  that 
chasm  below  seem  deeper  and  darker  than  ever  before. 
Her  jeopardy  now  was  very  great,  but  her  chances  were 
even,  he  told  himself.  She  might,  somehow,  escape 
those  shuddering  depths,  whereas,  if  he  tried  and  did 
not  succeed — her  danger — he  dared  not  think  of  it. 
"For  I  mean  to  try,  and  I  must  succeed,"  was  the  in- 
stant decision  of  Richard  Wood. 

She  had  almost  reached  that  point  in  the  trail  from 
which  she  might  hear  his  voice  when  he  spoke.  She 
might  also  perceive,  if  she  chanced  to  look,  where  he 
stood,  with  his  horse,  well  out  of  the  way.  He  intended 
that  she  should  both  hear  and  see,  for  he  preferred  to 
have  her  co-operation,  although  he  had  determined  to 
help  her,  if  necessary,  in  spite  of  herself. 

Fortunately  his  own  horse  whinnied  at  a  propitious 
moment  and,  looking  down,  she  discovered  him  just  as 
he  was  upon  the  point  of  uttering  a  very  definite  com- 
mand which  seemed  to  have  written  itself  upon  the  still 
air,  so  clearly  did  it  penetrate  her  brain. 

"Jump  when  you  reach  me,"  was  what  he  said. 

He  gave  her  a  minute  to  comprehend,  another  mo- 
ment to  make  up  her  mind,  and  then  his  second  order 
came. 

"When  I  shoot  the  horse,  don't  lose  your  head." 

That  was  all.  She  had  vanished  around  a  bend, 
and  he  knew  that  the  time  for  action  was  near. 

Moments  dragged,  and  their  slow  suspense  brought 
phantoms  of  fear  to  worry  his  brain.  What  if  she  did 
not  get  free  of  her  mount — were  caught  by  a  stirrup 
and  dragged  from  the  rim?  The  grasp  that  would  save 


132  THE  DAYSMAN 

must  be  swift  and  sure.  Timed  to  the  instant  the  shot 
that  could  kill  and  still  leave  room  for  contingencies. 

No  better  view  of  the  trail  could  be  had  than  that 
which  obtained  from  where  he  stood.  Sheltered  him- 
self, he  could  yet  command  a  long  stretch  of  road,  could 
aim  and  fire  at  a  range  so  close  that  her  horse  need  not 
shy  nor  be  ever  aware  of  a  presence  so  near. 

"At  last,"  he  breathed.  Then  he  caught  her  eye  and 
his  hand  was  steady,  his  brain  was  clear.  A  second 
more  and  he  had  her  safe,  while  the  horse,  with  a  snort 
of  rage  and  pain,  leaped  far  beyond  them,  then  stag- 
gered and  fell  breathing  his  last  on  the  very  brink. 

A  niche  in  the  wall  formed  a  sort  of  seat  where  he 
placed  her  gently  and  pillowed  her  head  with  saddle- 
blanket  on  saddle-bags.  Her  eyes  were  closed,  and  he 
saw  that  her  hands  hung  limp  and  lifeless  against  the 
stone.  With  a  reverence  as  fine  as  the  gesture  was  firm 
he  drew  off  a  glove  to  test  the  pulse,  and  felt  that  her 
fingers  were  very  cold.  When  he  forced  some  brandy 
between  the  lips,  her  muscles  tightened  and  then  re- 
laxed, the  eyelids  quivered  and  half  unclosed,  then 
dropped  again,  as  though  the  weight  of  their  tremulous 
lashes  had  proved  too  much. 

Instinctively  he  realized  that  she  had  not  lost  con- 
sciousness for  a  moment;  that  she  was  merely  allowing 
her  overwrought  nerves  a  brief  second  for  recovery  from 
the  fearful  tension  which  had  left  her,  without  doubt, 
strangely  weak  and  loth  to  make  the  effort  of  meeting 
a  new  and  trying  situation.  He  imagined  that  what  she 
most  needed  were  time  and  quiet;  that  nothing  would 
prove  more  annoying  than  the  bustling  application  of 


THE   DAYSMAN  133 

futile  restoratives  with  which  we  sometimes  administer 
so-called  relief.  He  waited  calmly,  therefore,  until  she 
should  elect  to  face  present  conditions  and,  in  the  mean- 
time, his  active  mind  came  to  some  very  definite  con- 
clusions. 

Her  riding-habit  was  distinctly  of  the  East.  He  had 
already  observed  that  fact,  and  it  prepared  him  for 
the  side-saddle  which  he  removed  from  the  dead  horse, 
without  surprise.  A  closer  examination  of  the  animal, 
however,  seemed  to  bring  further  revelations  which  evi- 
dently altered  his  original  intention  with  regard  to  its 
body.  He  had  meant  to  dislodge  a  hindering  stone 
which  would  have  made  it  a  comparatively  simple  proc- 
ess to  roll  the  carcass — already  half  way  over  the  brim 
— from  the  outer  edge  of  the  steep  incline.  But,  on 
second  thought,  he  concluded  to  allow  it  to  remain 
where  it  was — well  out  of  the  path,  which  widened  just 
here  and  gave  room.  "For  the  scoundrel  must  have  his 
lesson  this  time,"  was  the  mental  comment  with  which 
he  dismissed  an  unpleasant  subject  from  his  thoughts. 

He  had  hardly  returned  to  her  side,  moreover,  when 
he  found  that  all  problems  had  dropped  into  insignifi- 
cance except  an  insistent  question  as  to  her  identity. 

Why  did  the  monogram  upon  her  gauntlet  seem  so 
strangely  familiar?  Had  he  never  seen  the  letter  B  ar- 
arranged  with  an  E  and  a  T  before?  He  experienced 
a  momentary  feeling  of  self-scorn  as  he  asked  himself 
a  question  whose  answer  was  so  obvious. 

The  device,  though  ingenious,  was  very  simple,  and 
yet  somehow  its  delicate  tracery  of  intertwining  gold 
held  for  him  all  at  once  the  vague  illusive  fascination 


134  THE  DAYSMAN 

of  some  intricate  labyrinth  in  whose  mysterious  mazes 
he  had  been,  for  a  long  time,  lost. 

And  then,  suddenly,  he  knew — much  of  which  he  had 
not  dreamed — more  at  which  he  had  only  guessed 
flashed  upon  him  with  sudden  light;  he  knew  where 
the  threads  of  Fate  had  crossed — he  knew  when  his 
life  had  first  met  hers;  and  he  wondered  if  many  more 
eons  must  pass  till  she  gave  him  a  glimpse  of  her  eyes. 

They  opened  at  last.  Their  gaze  was  direct,  and 
their  glance,  he  saw,  was  collected  and  clear.  For  a 
moment  they  read  him  through  and  through  to  the 
depths  it  seemed  of  his  very  soul — and  then: 

"It  was  more  than  clever,"  she  said.  "Your  cool- 
ness was  splendid,  your  courage,  I  think,  was  exceed- 
ingly fine." 

"And  yours" he  paused;  for  he  felt  that  her 

praise  had  been  wholly  impersonal,  even  though  it  rang 
sincere.  There  had  been  frank  enthusiasm  in  her  man- 
ner and  even  admiration  for  the  act.  He  was  vaguely 
aware,  however,  of  a  certain  nicety  of  distinction  with 
which  she  reserved  any  further  tribute  of  appreciation. 
He  rather  fancied  that  she  was  waiting  for  an  oppor- 
tunity to  catch  a  note  of  individuality  in  order  that  she 
might  later  render  some  meed  of  thanks  to  the  man; 
and  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  Richard  Wood  under- 
stood the  differential  quality  that  may  exist  in  a  simple 
expression  of  gratitude.  He  realized  that  his  intuitions 
had  not  led  him  astray  as  soon  as  he  saw  the  quick  look 
of  surprise  and  pleasure  with  which  responded  to  his 
own  instant  change  of  subject.  It  had  taken  the  form 
of  a  stern  question  with  which  he  interrupted  himself — 


THE   DAYSMAN  135 

"But  how  did  you  come  to  be  riding  that  horse?  At 
least,"  he  corrected,  hastily,  "I  should  very  much  like 
to  know — if  you  recognize  my  right  to  ask?" 

Her  laugh  was  merry  and  low  and  clear.  It  assured 
him  that  she  was  not  offended,  although  it  told  him 
how  really  she  was  amused. 

" Noblesse  oblige,  Monsieur,  and  even  when  one  has 
won  the  rank  of  commander  it  might  be  wiser  not  to 
press  a  point  too  far.  However,  upon  the  subject  of 
that  unfortunate  horse" — she  grew  grave  and  shivered 
slightly  as  she  glanced  in  its  direction — "I  certainly 
acknowledge  your  right  to  question  me,  and  I  think 
one  might  accord  you  the  doubtful  privileges  of  a  cate- 
chism." 

She  seemed  to  have  recovered  completely  from  her 
recent  shock  and  was  talking  now  with  the  utmost  com- 
posure. He  marveled  at  the  quiet  grace  with  which  she 
fitted  into  her  unaccustomed  surroundings,  at  the 
savoir  faire  with  which  she  adjusted  herself  to  such  im- 
promptu comforts  as  he  had  been  able  to  devise  among 
the  rocks.  Apparently  unconscious  of  incongruities,  she 
was  as  smiling  and  at  her  ease  as  though  she  were  sur- 
rounded by  the  luxuries  of  her  grandfather's  drawing- 
room.  Only  the  dust  upon  her  habit,  the  heavy  lines 
under  the  brave  eyes,  and  her  slightly  disheveled  hair 
reminded  him  of  how  much  she  had  but  lately  en- 
dured. 

"Query  number  one  was — let  me  think — how  did  I 
come  to  be  riding  that  horse?"  She  smiled  up  at  him 
as  she  spoke.  Her  tone  was  a  faint  echo  of  his  own 
sternness,  and  her  manner  carried  a  slight  trace  of  the 


136  THE  DAYSMAN 

father  confessor's  way,  with  which  she  evidently  meant 
to  invest  him.  Otherwise  she  appeared  to  be  entirely 
serious,  with  the  exception  of  that  humorously  quizzical 
expression  of  the  eyes. 

"Well,  then,  Monsieur" she  paused  with  a  mo- 
mentary lifting  of  eyebrows,  and  he  added  his  name 
quite  simply.  A  flash  of  something  that  might  have 
been  either  surprise  or  recognition,  either  wonder  or 
conviction,  lighted  up  her  face  and  she  seemed  on  the 
point  of  an  exclamation.  Checking  herself,  on  the  in- 
stant, however,  she  resumed  evenly:  "Well,  then,  Mr. 
Wood,  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  I  shall  relate  the  facts, 
even  though  they  may  involve  my  own  condemnation. 

"The  horse  was  obtained  in  the  town  of from  a 

man  who  called  himself  Dumford." 

"I  guessed  as  much,"  commented  Richard  Wood, 
briefly. 

She  evidently  noted  the  interruption  but  went  on, 
quickly,  in  reply  to  his  manner  more  than  to  his  words. 
"It  would  not  be  fair  to  blame  the  man,  however,  until 
you  have  heard  both  sides  of  the  case. 

"I  was  determined  to  ride.  My  friends  contented 
themselves  with  the  only  conveyance  that  this  Dumford 
could  provide,  and" — she  hesitated  a  moment  then 
went  on  with  a  rueful  smile — "I  was  not  exactly 
equipped  for  riding  as  women  are  accustomed  to  ride, 
here.  This  was  the  only  horse  to  be  had  which  was  not 
afraid  of  a  side-saddle,  and  the  man  had  satisfied  my 
cousin  with  the  assurance  that  it  was  'not  a  native 
broncho,'  but" — she  mimicked  the  broad  farce  of  a 
crude  wit  as  though  it  had  tickled  her  fancy — "  'like  all 


THE    DAYSMAN  137 

other  importations  from  the  East — thoroughly  well- 
bred.'  " 

"That  sounds  exactly  like  Dummy.  His  effrontery 
is  proverbial,  although  the  rascal  can  be  rather  droll, 
at  times. ' '  Richard  Wood  smiled  as  he  caught  the 
spirit  of  her  infectious  humor. 

"It  was  a  very  neat  way  of  putting  it,  was  it  not? 
I  thought  such  cleverness  deserved  its  reward,  and  it 
quite  decided  me  to  take  the  horse — although  my  cousin, 
I  fear,  was  far  from  pleased." 

"Almost  any  native  horse  would  have  been  safer." 
Richard  Wood  was  again  serious.  He  felt  that  she 
must  realize  the  gravity  of  the  situation. 

"But  the  animal  was  quiet  and  well-behaved  when 
we  started.  He  might  almost  have  been  in  a  trance, 
so  little  did  he  seem  to  notice  the  presence  of  the  sad- 
dle. I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  he  did  not  feel  it 
until  we  had  gotten  a  short  distance  beyond  the  others. 
Then,  suddenly,  without  warning,  he  was  off  like  the 

wind,  and" for  an  instant  he  noted  the  somber 

shadows  of  painful  memory  in  her  eyes.  "I  know  very 
little  about  the  rest  excepting  the  fact  that  I  am  here; 
and  that  it  is  very  good  to  be  safe, ' '  she  said. 

In  her  swift  change  of  expression  there  was  light 
and  warmth.  Her  smile,  at  last,  was  for  him  alone. 
She  was  not  less  grateful  for  the  act,  but  an  act  may 
not  claim  the  personal  note  unless,  perchance,  it  re- 
flect the  man. 


138  THE  DAYSMAN 


CHAPTER   XII. 

"Work  of  his  hand 
He  nor  commends  nor   grieves : 
Pleads   for  itself  the   fact; 
As   unrepenting   Nature   leaves 
Her  every  act." 

— Emerson. 

"I  HAVE  been  wondering,"  and  the  girl's  face  was 
again  serious.  Its  swift  play  of  expression  seemed  to 
follow  in  the  wake  of  her  thought,  much  as — with  slow- 
er accuracy — the  changing  shadows  record  themselves 
upon  a  sundial,  "how  I  might  let  the  others  know — 
how  I  could  most  quickly  assure  them  that  they  need 
not  look  for  me — there." 

She  nodded  gravely  toward  the  abrupt  declivity  that 
marked  the  edge  of  the  path,  and  then,  as  if  in  apology 
for  what  might  look  like  the  exaggeration  of  a  possible 
idea,  she  added: 

"They  will,  naturally,  be  anxious,  you  know." 

"Of  course,"  he  replied,  simply.  "I,  too,  have  been 
thinking  of  that." 

He  noticed  with  surprise  her  quick  look  of  apprecia- 
tion. His  practical  assumption  of  other  people's  bur- 
dens was  so  nearly  second  nature  that  most  persons, 
himself  included,  had  grown  to  regard  the  habit  as  a 
mere  matter  of  course  and  he  rather  wondered  that  this 
girl  (with  the  queenly  air  of  one  accustomed  to  much 


THE   DAYSMAN  139 

willing  service)  should  not,  also,  have  taken  his  interest 
for  granted. 

"Are  you  familiar  enough  with  the  country  to  re- 
member where  you  left  them?" 

She  considered  a  moment,  as  though  reviewing  every 
detail  at  her  command. 

"It  couldn't  have  been  more  than  two  o'clock  when 

we  left  A ,  taking  the  road  for  'The  Lone  Star 

Mine.'  " 

"The  Lone  Star!"  he  interrupted,  quickly.  "That 
— is  op  the  other  side  of  the  divide — down  the  valley, 

and" he  thought  swiftly.  "Your  horse  must  have 

cut  into  the  Denby  Trail.  That  runs  out  of  the  'Lone 
Star'  road  at  a  point  nearly  eight  miles  beyond  town 
and  is  only  possible  for  one  on  horseback.  Was  any 
one  else  riding?" 

"No  one,"  she  told  him,  quietly. 

"Then  it  would  be  necessary  for  them  to  return  to 

A for  saddles,  before  following  you.  Even  then, 

there  are  a  half-dozen  trails  that  diverge  from  the  main 

one,  which  is  The  Denby.  It  is  now" he  drew  out 

his  watch  and  made  a  rapid  mental  calculation.  "There 
is  only  one  way  to  do  it,"  he  said  finally.  "Do  you 
feel  at  all  equal  to  riding?"  Then,  as  he  noted  her 
scarcely  perceptible  hesitation,  "my  horse  is  absolutely 
safe,  although,"  and  in  his  laugh  there  was  that  spirit 
of  eternal  youth  which  is  the  finest  essence  of  humor, 
"her  name  is  Midnight,  and  I  shall  have  to  confess  that 
she  was  bred  in  Arizona.  I  might  assure  you  that  she 
is  very  susceptible  to  influences  that  are  not  native, 


140  THE  DAYSMAN 

but,  on  the  whole,  it  may  be  better  to  wait  until  she  has 
proved  herself  worthy  of  your  confidence." 

"But  do  you  think  that  Midnight — I  like  the  name- 
could  overlook  the  foibles  of  an  outsider?"  and  the 
girl  touched  lightly  the  skirt  or  her  habit. 

"I  feel  sure  that  she  could  appreciate  being  trust- 
ed, ' '  he  replied  gravely,  as  he  led  out  the  mare — a  beau- 
tiful black — which  had  remained  apparently  unmoved 
amid  the  disturbed  limitation  of  her  surroundings. 
Now,  however,  her  intelligent  response  to  her  master's 
touch  seemed  almost  intuitive,  and  her  instant  inter- 
pretation of  his  low-toned  suggestions  proclaimed  the 
natural  fineness  of  her  instinct. 

As  Richard  "Wood  adjusted  saddle  and  trappings  to 
his  own  satisfaction,  the  girl  watched  him  quietly.  She 
liked  his  quick  conclusiveness,  his  mastery  of  detail, 
and  when  he  turned  to  her,  at  length,  with  a  decided 
"Come,"  she  gave  him  both  her  hands  with  a  sudden 
little  gesture  of  cordial  confidence.  She  seemed  to  have 
the  gift  of  making  even  a  very  simple  act  so  peculiarly 
her  own  that  it  became,  at  once,  the  vehicle  of  more 
subtle  expression,  and  now,  without  the  slightest  tinge 
of  coquetry,  she  had  implied  a  frank  acknowledgment 
of  her  dependence  upon  him  in  much  more  than  the 
trivial  matter  of  getting  to  her  feet. 

"And  you  are  not  at  all  nervous?"  he  questioned, 
as  he  put  her  on  his  horse.  She  had  adjusted  herself 
more  firmly  in  the  saddle,  and  was  on  the  point  of  tak- 
ing the  reins  from  his  hand,  before  she  asked,  rather 
evasively : 

"Do  you   discover  the  slightest  trace  of  fear?     Is 


THE    DAYSMAN  141 

not  Midnight  beautifully  quiet?  She  makes  one  realize 
how  slight  a  thing  is  custom,  how  small  a  point  is  the 
matter  of  environment  when  the  essentials  are  inbred." 

"Your  faith  is  generous,"  he  replied,  smiling,  "but 
it  would  be  hardy  fair  to  tax  it  too  far."  She  noticed 
that  the  lines  were  still  in  his  grasp,  and  that  he  evi- 
dently meant  to  retain  them. 

"I  intend  to  lead  Midnight,"  he  explained  briefly, 
and  her  quick  "Thank  you,"  told  him  something  of 
her  relief  from  an  anxiety  which  she  had  not  shown. 

And  so  he  brought  her  down  the  mountain  through 
the  brief  October  twilight,  until  they  came,  at  length, 
to  the  mouth  of  what  he  had  described  as  a  short  tun- 
nel under  the  hills. 

After  a  few  words  with  the  grimy  individual  who 
had  emerged  from  a  black  gap  that  yawned  darkly  on 
the  face  of  the  cliff,  they  heard  the  dull  rumble  of 
distant  wheels,  and  the  far-away  echo  of  a  voice  fol- 
lowed by  the  sharp  cracking  of  a  whip. 

"Up,  Jenny,  for  we're  comin'  to  the  light, 
Comin'  to  the  light,  comin'  to  the  light. 
Get  up,  Jenny,  for  we're  comin'  to  the  light. 
Out  into  the  light  of  d-aa--y." 

The  song  ceased  suddenly  as  a  brown  mule,  blinking 
in  instinctive  preparedness  for  the  accustomed  glare  of 
the  noonday  sun,  opened  grateful  eyes  upon  the  unex- 
pected surprise  of  a  deepening  twilight. 

"And  now  cometh  the  second  gnome,"  murmured 
the  girl  delightedly.  "The  setting  makes  one  feel  so 
perilously  near  to  being  part  of  a  play." 


142  THE  DAYSMAN 

"It  almost  begins  to  look  like  melodrama,  doesn't 
it?"  he  asked,  smiling. 

"It  held  all  the  elements  of  tragedy — for  me;  but 
you  are  giving  it  the  ending  of  a  comedy,"  she  said. 

Richard  Wood  was  helping  her  to  dismount,  and  she 
heard  the  driver,  whose  stentorian  tones  had  aroused 
echoes  that  were  even  now  reverberating  among  the 
retreating  shadows,  ask  his  fellow  workmen  in  a  stage 
whisper  what  had  brought  "the  boss"  back  "so  durned 
quick." 

"Dunno,  guess  he's  goin'  down  to special,"  the 

other  had  replied,  sotto  voce,  and  then  both  men  began 
to  obey  Eichard  Woood's  terse  orders  with  that  eager 
haste  which  is  born  of  respect  and  fear  finely  tempered 
with  a  genuine  desire  to  please. 

The  girl  watched  with  fascinated  eyes  the  dumping 
of  a  heavily  loaded  ore-car,  the  hasty  dusting  out  of 
its  deep  bed,  and  an  impromptu  arrangement  of  cross- 
boards  which  were  to  serve  as  seats  during  the  short 
journey  underground. 

A  moment  later  they  were  moving  along  a  subter- 
ranean passage,  dark  as  Erebus.  Directly  through  the 
base  of  a  mountain — for  a  distance  of  almost  two  miles, 
uncovering  rich  ore  veins  at  great  depth — the  tunnel 
appeared  to  have  been  blasted  through  solid  rock  which 
walled  them  in  so  closely  at  times  that  she  could  touch 
its  cool  hardness  with  her  hands.  She  heard,  now  and 
then,  the  voice  of  Richard  Wood  above  the  rattle  and 
roar  of  the  creaking  wheels,  and  knew  that  he  was 
warning  her  from  danger  overhead.  At  such  moments 
she  felt  enveloped  and  strangely  oppressed  by  the  vast- 


THE   DAYSMAN  143 

ness  of  the  surrounding  mountain,  and  its  obtrusive 
nearness  gave  her  a  crushing  sense  of  its  power.  She 
guessed  enough  at  the  problems  of  mining  to  realize  that 
here  a  stern  contest  with  Nature  had  taxed  the  ingenu- 
ity of  man,  but  her  own  feeling  of  futile  impotence  in 
the  presence  of  what  once  had  been  titanic  struggle 
was  new  and  terrible. 

She  wondered  if  it  were  simply  the  comfort  of  human 
companionship  that  made  the  presence  of  the  man  be- 
side her  assume  a  significance  that  was  vital  to  her  pres- 
ent peace  of  mind. 

Now  and  then,  where  the  car  stopped,  a  light  shown 
through  the  murky  shadows,  and  then  the  sudden  still- 
ness made  it  possible  to  speak.  It  was  during  these 
pauses  that  he  answered  her  questions  as  to  their  sur- 
roundings, explained  the  points  that  puzzled  her,  and 
related  various  amusing  episodes  in  the  history  of  the 
mine. 

He  talked  well,  but  less  brilliantly  than  many  men 
she  had  known,  and  yet  his  conversation  aroused  in 
her  somehow  a  keener  interest.  She  often  caught  her- 
self listening  for  the  things  he  left  unsaid,  and  won- 
dering how  large  a  measure  of  reserve  force  lay  hid- 
den behind  the  strong  lines  of  his  face. 

The  face,  she  fancied,  had  been  molded  as  the  mine 
had  been  made  in  the  carrying  out  of  some  purpose, 
clearly  defined  and  definite  as  the  narrow  track  whose 
rails  were  ever  before  them.  It  marked,  no  doubt,  as 
did  they,  an  avenue  through  which  gold  had  been 
found  and  taken  out.  But  it  was  the  by-paths — the 
cross-cuts,  he  had  called  them — that  enticed  her  imagi- 


144  THE  DAYSMAN 

nation.  She  caught  glimpses  of  them  here  and  there — 
long  dim  vistas  that  stretched  far  beyond  the  parting 
of  the  ways,  where  grimy  faces  stared  out  at  them 
through  the  gloom,  and  the  intermittent  sound  of  pick 
and  drill  reminded  her  that  neither  mines  nor  charac- 
ters are  built  merely  for  exploration. 

And  then  again  it  was  the  tunnel  itself  that  appealed 
to  her;  the  rough  beauty  of  hewn  rock  and  its  stern 
irregularity  of  outline.  During  rare  moments  of  in- 
frequent silence  she  heard  the  friendly  music  of  run- 
ning water,  and  caught  now  and  then  a  cool  drop  from 
some  underground  spring  upon  her  forehead. 

"How  soon  one  can  grow  accustomed  to  darkness!" 
she  exclaimed.  "And  after  all  half  the  beauty  of  a 
cavern  is  its  gloom.  It  creates  illusions  so  wierd  and 
fantastic  that  one  could  imagine  this  some  fascinating 
grotto  in  the  kingdom  of  Pluto." 

"Prosperina  might  be  speaking  from  memory,"  he 
said,  and  the  words,  though  distinct,  were  very  low. 
The  jolting  car  had  stopped  for  the  moment,  and  she 
realized  through  the  half  light  that  he  was  smiling  down 
into  her  eyes. 

"You  extract  'big  values,'  "  she  parried,  adapting 
quickly  a  new  phraseology,  "even  out  of  the  small  coin 
of  conversation.  But,"  she  interrupted  herself  quick- 
ly, changing  the  subject  with  evident  relief,  "surely,  at 
last,  'We're  coming  to  the  light — out  into  the  light  of 
d-a-a-y.'  '  She  hummed  the  air  gayly  under  her 
breath,  looking  beyond  him,  the  while,  and  Richard 
Wood  felt  a  sudden  wild  temptation  to  tell  her  how 
lovely  she  really  was.  Instead  of  that,  however,  he  an- 


THE   DAYSMAN  145 

nounced  quite  practically  that  the  day  was  over,  and 
that  what  she  actually  saw  was  the  light  of  an  early 
moon. 

"What  a  glorious  world!"  she  cried  enthusiastically, 
as  the  car  stopped  with  a  final  jerk,  out  under  the 
shadow  of  the  frowning  hills. 

A  broad  valley  lay  below  them  flooded  in  white  light, 
while  the  windows  of  tiny  cabins  that  clustered  about 
the  base  of  the  mountain  blinked  at  them  like  fiery  eyes. 
The  nearness  of  the  simple  little  homes,  with  their 
promise  of  warmth  and  cheer,  made  her  realize  suddenly 
that  she  was  very  weary  and  quite  cold. 

The  chug-chug  of  a  locomotive,  getting  up  steam, 
warned  her,  however,  that  they  still  were  going  on,  and 
far  down  the  track  an  engineer  leaning  from  his  cab 
blew  a  sharp  whistle  as  they  came  into  view. 

A  few  minutes  later  Richard  Wood  was  giving  di- 
rections for  her  comfort  to  the  man  in  waiting  at  the 
steps  of  his  car,  and  after  explaining  to  her  that  he 
would  join  her  at  dinner  as  soon  as  he  had  seen  to  the 
sending  of  some  half-dozen  telegrams  (which,  he  hoped, 
would  discover  the  whereabouts  of  her  friends),  he  was 
gone. 

Returning,  presently,  he  found  her,  looking  refreshed 
but  a  trifle  pale,  and  pouring  over  a  map  that  she  had 
discovered  spread  out  upon  the  desk. 

"Ah,"  he  exclaimed,  and  he  felt  a  sudden  pleasure 
in  her  interest,  "you  are  realizing  your  surroundings." 

"This  makes  them  delightfully  clear,"  she  replied, 
studying  the  drawing  intently.  "We  all  started  there; 
and  here  is  the  Denby  Trail ;  and  this  must  be  the  place 


146  THE  DAYSMAN 

where  you  came  to  the  rescue  and" she  paused  a 

moment,  smiling,  then  looked  up  with  shining  eyes. 

"And  this,"  he  interrupted,  looking  over  her  shoul- 
der and  indicating  a  small  spot  on  the  map,  "is  where 
your  friends  will  be  waiting,  and — we  shall  join  them 
there  in  an  hour." 

"I  shall  begin  to  fear  that  you  are  a  magician,"  she 
cried,  rising  as  dinner  was  announced. 

"Endow  me  with  powers  more  than  natural,  and  I 
might  sometime  get,"  his  laugh  rang  clear  with  the 
warm  hope  of  youth,  but  his  voice  had  dropped  to  a 
minor  key,  "what  I  want." 

"But  that,"  she  objected,  "is  not  the  mission  of  a 
magician." 

"What,  then,  is  his  mission?"  he  inquired,  whimsic- 
ally, smiling  across  the  space  that  intervened  between 
them.  She  sat  opposite  to  him  at  the  head  of  his  table, 
and  for  the  moment  he  was  filled  with  a  great  content. 

"Obedience  in  fulfilling  the  wishes  of  another,"  she 
told  him,  merrily. 

"Then  the  problem  will  be  to  discover  those  wishes 
and — to  make  them  conform — to  his  own."  His  man- 
ner was  direct  and  very  simple,  but  she  felt  the  lurk- 
ing danger  that  lay  below  the  surface  of  his  words,  and 
knew  that  his  choice  of  tenses  had  not  been  accidental. 

"Enigmas,"  she  said  gravely,  "are  the  pitfalls  of 
conversation." 

"But  they  can  often  give  zest  to  life,"  he  finished, 
with  a  seriousness  that  quite  equaled  her  own. 


THE    DAYSMAN  147 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

"The  gods  are  to  each  other  not  unknown." 
"Friends    also    follow    the    laws    of    divine    necessity;    they 
gravitate  to  each  other,  and  cannot  otherwise.     Their  relation 
is  not  made,  but  allowed." 

WHEN  the  stage  from  Echino  Springs  drew  up,  with  a 
flourish,  beside  the  little  platform  at  X,  there  was  a 
stir  among  the  half-dozen  cowboys  lounging,  across  the 
road. 

"What's  up,  tonight,  Jake?"  asked  a  genial  bar- 
tender of  a  surly  switchman  who  had  come  over  the  way 
for  ' '  a  sandwich  and  a  glass, ' '  to  fortify  himself  against 
the  lateness  of  his  evening  meal. 

"Nothin'  but  a  special  from  up  the  line — President, 
I  guess;  though  it  can't  be  him  they're  waitin'  for," 
and  the  man  called  Jake  nodded  contemptuously  in  the 
direction  of  the  gay  English  coach  and  its  well- 
groomed  horses.  "He  wouldn't  waste  much  time  on 
that  outfit,  /  bet,"  he  added  sententiously  as  he 
munched  noisily  at  his  bread. 

"They're  a  queer  lot  up  at  the  springs,  I  guess," 
said  the  bar-man,  speculatively.  He  was  from  New 
England,  and  had  found  gossip  a  profitable  ally, 
now  and  then,  in  the  business  of  "turning  money." 
"You  can't  get  old  Pierre  to  do  much  talkin',  but 
the  Baron  says  it's  a  brave  sight  to  see  those  swells 


148  THE  DAYSMAN 

digin'  potatoes  or  hoein'  corn  like  any  other  sweatin* 
sons  of  Adam." 

"The  Baron's  paid  fer  talkin',  Andy,"  snapped 
Jake,  turning  from  the  pleasantly  lighted  bar-room  to 
go  back  to  his  post  but  lingering  just  long  enough  to 
hear  the  insinuating  voice  of  Andy,  and  the  suggestion 
that  there  would  be  a  hot  drink  waiting  when  his  work 
should  be  over. 

The  last  regular  train  had  gone  through  fully  an 
hour  ago,  and  the  station  was  deserted  save  for  the 
presence  of  a  sleepy  telegraph  operator  dozing  over  the 
keys  of  his  instrument.  He  looked  up  quickly  enough, 
however,  awake  in  an  instant,  when  a  lady  and  two 
gentlemen  entered  the  stuffy  little  waiting-room. 

The  elder  of  the  two  men — who  had  broad  shoulders 
with  a  superb  head  and  the  "ambrosial  locks"  of  the 
Capotoline  Jove,  stepped  at  once  to  the  ticket-window 
to  ask  for  the  latest  word  from  the  special  up  the  line. 

"Be  here  in  ten  minutes,  sir,"  responded  the  opera- 
tor laconically,  surprised  that  "the  man  from  the 
Springs,  with  the  piercing  eyes,"  should  know  any- 
thing about  the  matter.  Then  he  added  quickly,  in 
the  hope  of  further  enlightenment: 

"Expecting  somebody,  sir?" 

"I  am,"  replied  the  other  shortly,  as  he  turned  away. 

"Anything  further,  Mr.  Swanson?"  asked  the  lady 
of  the  group,  who  was  middle  aged,  with  a  placid  face 
that  contrasted  sharply  with  the  worried  expression  of 
her  eyes. 

"Nothing,  Mrs.  Winston,  excepting  a  corroboration 


THE   DAYSMAN  .  149 

of  the  last  telegram  received  at  the  Springs.  It  gave 
us,  you  will  remember,"  he  continued,  with  the  air  of 
one  who  realizes  that  a  repetition  of  facts  already 
known  may  sometimes  possess  the  power  to  soothe, 
"the  hour  of  their  arrival  as  well  as  the  assurance  of 
Miss  Treverin's  absolute  safety." 

"I  know,  I  know,"  responded  Mrs.  Winston,  with 
some  relief,  "but  you  can  have  no  conception,  Mr. 
Swanson,  of  the  thousand  and  one  additional  questions 
that  present  themselves  to  a  woman's  mind.  To  think 
of  my  cousin  wandering  over  those  forsaken  hills,  for 
hours — alone — without  even  the  protection  of  a  groom, 
is — is  quite  horrible.  I  cannot  wait  to  know  the  de- 
tails of  what  the  dear  child  has  been  through.  Pray 
tell  me,  Bobby,"  she  exclaimed  with  the  sudden  irrele- 
vance of  one  whose  nerves  are  not  in  full  control,  as  she 
turned  to  the  younger  man  who  had  not  as  yet,  spoken, 
"what  our  driver  meant  by  implying  that  there  was 
something  quite  wrong  with  that  horse?" 

"My  dear  Aunt,"  exclaimed  the  young  man,  evasive- 
ly, "had  you  not  previously  observed  that  the  man  was 
exceedingly  fond  of  exaggeration?  But,"  he  added 
quickly,  changing  the  subject  with  a  swiftness  that  es- 
caped the  lady,  although  its  significance  was  not  lost 
upon  the  man  at  his  side,  "I  am  wondering,  my  dear 
Tante,  what  possible  good  a  groom  could  have  been  in 
those  forsaken  hills.  I  can  imagine  that  even  your  re- 
sourceful Higgins  would  have  found  himself  somewhat 
at  a  loss,  on  the  Denby  Trail." 

The  eyes  of  Kobert  Travers  twinkled  roguishly,  for 


150  THE  DAYSMAN 

he  knew  each  particular  hobby  of  this  dignified  little 
woman  whom  he  called  aunt. 

"His  mere  presence  would  have  been  useful,"  re- 
sponded Mrs.  Winston  with  some  asperity,  '  "even 
though  he  could  have  done  nothing." 

"And  in  what  way,  Aunt  Cornelia?"  teased  the 
young  man.  ' '  The  pompous  Higgins  would  have  added 
an  extremely  ornamental  touch  to  an  otherwise  barbar- 
ous landscape,  but  how,  in  the  name  of  wonder,  could 
he  have  been  useful?" 

"You  seem  to  forget,  Bobby,"  said  the  little  lady, 
witheringly,  "that  a  trusty  groom  is  accepted  as  a  con- 
servator of  the  proprieties  for  a  woman  riding  alone." 

"I  see,"  said  Travers,  solemnly. 

"And,"  continued  Mrs.  Winston,  with  severity,  "had 
Higgins  been  there,  our  dear  Elizabeth  might  have  been 
spared  the  ministrations  of  a  stranger." 

"Let  me  assure  you,  however,  Mrs.  Winston,"  broke 
in  Swanson  eagerly,  "even  without  knowing  the  de- 
tails of  the  rescue,  that  Miss  Treverin  could  not  have 
chosen  her  deliverer  more  fortunately.  Wood  is  a  man 
whose  resourcefulness  is  as  great  as  his  courage,  and  a 
gentleman  who  has  never  yet  been  found  wanting  in  an 
emergency." 

"A  splendid  tribute,  certainly,"  responded  the  lady 
appreciatively.  "But  you  must  realize,  Mr.  Swanson, 
that  my  niece  is  not  yet  aware  of  these  pleasant  facts, 
and  may,  therefore,  at  this  very  moment,  be  in  the  try- 
ing situation  of  owing  her  life  to  a  stranger  of  whom 
she  knows  absolutely  nothing." 
"A  most  awful  state,  indeed,  ma  Tante,  but  prefer- 


THE   DAYSMAN  151 

able,  don't  you  think,  to  owing  one's  death  to  some  vil- 
lainous horse?" 

T raver's  shoulders  were  shaking  silently,  but,  as 
usual,  when  he  had  succeeded  in  "getting  a  rise"  (as 
he  expressed  it)  out  of  Mrs.  Winston,  his  face  was  deep- 
ly grave. 

This  time,  however,  his  embarrassment  was  increased 
by  an  anxiously  expressed  fear  on  the  part  of  the  lady 
that  he  must  have  contracted  a  frightful  cold,  as  he 
manifested  signs  of  a  chill. 

"No,  Aunt  Cornelia,  no,"  and  he  was  well-nigh  over- 
come with  suppressed  amusement.  "I  have  never  en- 
joyed better  health  in  my  life — enjoyed  is  the  word,  I 
can  assure  you." 

"Come,  Swanson,"  he  added  hastily — for  he  dared 
not  trust  himself  farther — "let  us  go  out  and  see  if 
that  blessed  engine  is  in  sight.  You  will  excuse  us, 
Aunty?  Thank  you.  I  promise  to  report  in  ample 
time,"  he  called  back  cheerily,  as  they  went  out  into 
the  night. 

"Now,  tell  me,  Swanson,"  demanded  Travers,  as 
soon  as  they  were  alone,  "what  the  deuce  is  a  'locoed 
horse'?  The  expression,  I  might  explain,  was  acquired 
by  me  from  that  fool  of  a  driver  who  blurted  it  out  the 
moment  after  this  fearsome  beast  had  run  away  and — 
as  you  have  just  observed,"  he  added,  apologetically, 
"I  was  forced  into  teasing  Mrs.  Winston  most  unmer- 
cifully, in  order  to  drive  the  question  out  of  her  mind. 
Now,  however,  I  'want  to  know,  you  know,'  so  that  I 
may  be  prepared  for  anything  there  is  to  do." 

"From    whom    did    you    get    the    animal?"  asked 


152  THE  DAYSMAN 

Swanson,  tentatively.  He  had  not  been  one  of  the  ex- 
pedition of  that  afternoon  and,  in  reality,  knew  little 
more  than  the  facts  of  the  accident,  which  had  been 
given  to  him,  hastily,  as  soon  as  the  party  returned  to 
the  Springs. 

"Dumford  was  the  name  of  the  man,  commonly 
known  as  Dummy,  I  believe." 

"And,"  exclaimed  Swanson,  "not  over-scrupulous, 
Mr.  Travers." 

"I  had  begun  to  fear  as  much,"  replied  the  younger 
man,  quickly.  "We  should  not  have  trusted  to  his 
statements  when  it  came  to  the  matter  of  the  horse. 
Miss  Treverin,  however,  was  anxious  to  ride.  It  was 
she,  in  fact,  who  proposed  the  impromptu  trip  to  'The 
Lone  Star  Mine,'  which  belongs,  I  understand,  to  this 
man,  Wood.  Miss  Treverin 's  brother  spent  about  a 
year  up  there — studying  mining,  I  believe — and  quite 
naturally  she  wanted  to  see  a  place  of  which  she  had 
heard  something.  We  had  several  hours  on  our  hands. 

The  stage,  you  will  remember,  took  us  over  to  A 

immediately  after  luncheon,  and  was  to  return  for  the 
party  at  five.  Several  of  us  had  exhausted  the  subject 
of  ruins  within  half  an  hour,  and  when  Miss  Treverin 
confessed  that  she  had  caused  a  small  piece  of  luggage 
to  be  smuggled  into  and  then  out  of  the  stage  with  the 
hope  of  being  able  to  wheedle  Mrs.  Winston  into  spend- 
ing a  day  or  two  at  A for  the  express  purpose  of 

visiting  this  mine — but  had  not  the  heart  to  suggest 
such  a  course  since  we  had  found  the  hotel  so  impossible 
— well,  you  may  realize  that  we  were  ready  to  join  in 
with  the  plan,  Swanson." 


THE   DAYSMAN  <  153 

"Of  course,"  said  the  big  man,  simply.  He  had  as 
yet  been  unable  to  imagine  anything  to  which  Elizabeth 
Treverin  could  not  have  persuaded  him. 

"But  about  the  horse?"  asked  Travers,  returning 
hurriedly  to  the  subject  uppermost  in  his  own  mind. 

"The  loco  plant,"  answered  Swanson,  "is  a  poison- 
ous weed  which  few  animals  will  touch.  Now  and  then, 
however,  a  horse  contracts  a  strange  liking  for  the  herb, 
and  the  taste  is  said  to  grow  into  a  passion.  It  is  a 
matter  of  common  belief  that  the  effect  of  the  plant 
upon  the  animal  organism  is  nearly  akin  to  the  influ- 
ence of  morphia  upon  man — that  a  horse  addicted  to 
the  use  of  it  is  hardly  sane  when  under  its  power,  and 
finally  dies  mad;  that  although  a  beast  may  be  quite 
right  for  long  intervals,  when  the  craze  is  upon  him  he 
will  have  a  wild  look  in  the  eye  which  defies  descrip- 
tion. Stock  accredited  with  the  habit  is  said  to  be 
'locoed.'  I  cannot  vouch  for  the  truth  of  these  state- 
ments, my  dear  Travers.  They  have  seemed  to  me 
sometimes  like  quaint  superstitions  which  have  been 
fastened  upon  unfortunate  members  of  the  animal  fam- 
ily whose  wrong-headedness  could  not  always  be  ex- 
plained away.  This  man  Dumford  has,  I  hear,  gone 
much  farther  in  his  imaginative  folly  upon  the  subject. 
He  has  evolved  the  strange  conceit  that  melancholia  re- 
sulting from  new  and  uncongenial  surroundings  at- 
tacked this  horse — a  thoroughbred  of  some  value,  in 
his  time — and  tempted  him  to  dissipation.  He  pro- 
fesses to  trust  the  animal  and  to  know  when  he  is  'safe,' 
but  as  a  matter  of  fact,  no  one  else  does,  and  Dumford 's 
attitude  has  been  a  standing  joke  in  the  neighborhood." 


154  THE  DAYSMAN 

"The  scoundrel,"  exclaimed  Travers,  angrily;  "it 
was  criminal  of  him  to  allow  us  to  trust  her  on  its 
back." 

"I  suppose  you  tempted  his  cupidity,"  replied 
Swanson,  "and  as  the  love  of  money  is  certainly  the 
root  of  much  evil,  with  Dummy,  he  forgot  his  usual 
caution.  Not  even  a  suspicion  has  centered  about  the 

man  in  A ,  and  as  yet  he  has  been  slippery  enough 

to  avoid  having  anything  proved  against  him  else- 
where. ' ' 

"He  shall  be  brought  to  book  this  time,  or  I'll  know 
the  reason  why,"  said  Travers,  with  finality,  as  the 
train  came  into  view. 

Richard  Wood  stood  alone  for  a  moment.  A  con- 
fused group  on  the  platform  had  swept  her  from  him, 
although  his  quick  ear  had  not  ceased  to  follow  the 
clear  sound  of  her  voice.  It  was  assuring  somebody 
even  now  that  she  was  delightfuly  safe,  thoroughly 
sound  and,  yes,  there  she  was,  at  last,  coming  toward 
him  through  the  gloom. 

"He's  right  here,  Cousin  Cornelia,"  she  was  saying, 
gayly,  "and  remember,  dear,  he  isn't  a  bit  of  a  stran- 
ger, but  Jack's  friend,  'Rick  Wood.'  " 

They  were  a  few  steps  in  advance  of  the  two  men — 
the  tall  girl  with  a  little  wroman  at  her  side,  and  a  mo- 
mentary silence  carried  the  words  farther  than  she 
could  have  thought  possible. 

His  name  on  her  lips  thrilled  Richard  Wood  as  noth- 
ing yet  had  ever  done.  Afterwards  he  remembered 
Mrs.  Winston's  grateful  cordiality,  the  warm  grip  of 


THE   DAYSMAN  155 

Travers'  hand,  and  how  quickly  he  had  yielded  to 
Swanson's  urging  that  he  accompany  them  all  to  the 
Springs,  but  at  the  moment  Richard  Wood  was  con- 
scious of  but  one  personality. 

"How  did  you  know,  Miss  Treverin?"  he  asked  ab- 
ruptly, as  soon  as  the  introductions  had  been  completed. 

"How  did  I  know  that  you  were  the  Mr.  Wood — is 
that  what  you  meant  to  ask?"  She  looked  up  at  him 
archly  just  as  the  station  lights  showed  him  that  a  de- 
mure smile  was  playing  about  her  mouth.  "You  can- 
not think  how  good  I  am  at  guessing,"  she  said. 

"But  you,"  she  continued,  reproachfully,  "in  the 
copies  of  those  telegrams  you  had  me  down  as  'Mrs. 
Winston's  cousin'  and "  she  laughed,  mischievous- 
ly, "I  purposely  failed  to  help  you  out.  Tell  me,  Mr. 
Richard  Wood,  how  did  you  know  that  /  was  I?" 

For  a  brief  moment  he  had  her  to  himself.  Swan- 
son  was  giving  directions  about  his  baggage  and  Tra- 
vers was  helping  Mrs.  Winston  to  her  place  upon  the 
coach.  She  and  he  were  alone  with  the  intimate  stars. 
Did  the  breath  of  a  warm  October  night  or  his  own 
firm  lips  voice  that  low  reply? 

"I  believe  I  must  have  dreamed  that  you  were  the 
boy's  sister." 

"I  had  not  thought  you  a  man  to  dream,"  she  said, 
slowly. 


156  THE  DAYSMAN 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

"This  world's  a  hollow  bubble,   don't  you   know. 
Just  a  painted  bit  of  trouble,  don't  you  know. 

We  come  to  earth  to  cry, 

We  grow  older  and  we  sigh — 
Older   still — and  then    we   die,   don't  you  know." 

WHEN  Richard  Wood  came  downstairs,  the  following 
morning,  he  found  Travers  on  the  wide  veranda  smok- 
ing a  solitary  cigar. 

"I  infer,  Mr.  Wood,"  exclaimed  that  young  man, 
pleasantly,  "that  we  are  fellow  truants  in  our  absence 
from  the  sunrise  seance.  For,"  he  continued,  in  an- 
swer to  Wood's  inquiring  look,  "I  should  be  willing 
to  wager  a  good  deal  that  you  will  have  to  plead  guilty 
to  having  heard  that  confounded  gong." 

"The  gong  did  pretty  thorough  execution,  I  admit," 
responded  Wood,  with  an  appreciative  smile,  as  he  re- 
called his  startled  awakening  from  an  early  morning 

nap,  "but  not  being  one  of  you  Olympians "  He 

got  no  farther. 

"  'You  Olympians' — Great  Heaven!"  interrupted 
Travers;  and  his  expression  of  feigned  dismay  was  so 
well  done  that  Richard  Wood  was  genuinely  amused. 

"That  I  should  have  lived  to  hear  myself  connected 
with  this  fin  de  siecle  nonsense  is  quite  too  much." 

"I  suppose,"  said  Wood,  laughing,  "that  I  shall  have 
to  apologize  for  misjudging  you." 


THE    DAYSMAN  157 

"Not  at  all,"  responded  Travers,  with  cheerful  alac- 
rity, "but  I  shall  ask  you,  Mr.  Wood,  to  correct  the 
serious  mistake  of  having  judged  me  by  the  company 
I  keep.  For  I  do  solemnly  swear,  as  between  man  and 
man  (no  matter  how  I  may  seem  to  perjure  myself, 
later,  in  the  presence  of  the  ladies),  that  although  at 
this  moment  you  find  him  consorting  with  superemi- 
nence,  Robert  Travers  is  not  now  nor  ever  shall  be  of 
the  supereminent,  'who  walk  in  air  and  contemplate  the 
sun.'" 

"The  pleasure  of  being  able  to  retract  an  unfortu- 
nate remark,"  smiled  Wood,  who  was  beginning  to  be 
entertained  in  spite  of  himself,  "is  almost  equal  to  that 
of  realizing  that  there  is  some  one  else  outside  the  fold. 
You  appear  to  know  the  ropes  here  pretty  thoroughly, 
Mr.  Travers,"  he  added,  "and  your  impressions  would 
be  more  than  edifying  to  a  man  who  finds  himself  de- 
cidedly at  a  loss  in  a  transcendental  atmosphere." 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Wood,  and — I  should  like  to  shake 
hands,"  replied  Travers,  with  a  grave  impulsiveness 
that  was  very  ludicrous.  "It  is  a  relief  to  be  able  to 
unburden  oneself  to  a  man  who  can  appreciate  the  sit- 
uation, although  no  one,  Mr.  Wood — no  one,"  repeated 
Travers,  dropping  his  voice  to  a  tragic  whisper,  "can 
fully  understand  what  I  have  gone  through  during  the 
past  week." 

"Is  it  as  bad  as  that?"  asked  Wood,  with  sympathy. 

"It  is  worse  than  that,  if  anything,"  responded 
Travers  with  a  groan.  "I  shall  give  you,  Mr.  Wood, 
without  reserve,  a  brief  history  of  my  experience. 

"Seven  long  days  since  the  man  before  you  arrived 


158  THE  DAYSMAN 

at  this  place.  He  looked  upon  the  cool  beauty  of  this 
court  of  palms,"  and  Travers  waved  his  hand,  dramat- 
ically toward  the  lovely  patio  before  them. 

"He  gazed  out  over  the  green  orange,  the  yellowing 
lemon  and  the  grape-fruit  ripening  in  the  sun ;  over  the 
fig,  the  pomegranate  and  the — the  other  things  that 
grow  here.  He  heard  the  distant  splash  and  rush  of  the 
boiling  springs,  gushing  from  yon  flinty  rock,  and  he 
sighed,  'Here,  at  last,  might  a  weary  man  find  rest.' 
But,  'not  so,  Travers,'  warned  a  voice  within  him  like 
a  premonition  of  what  was  to  come,  and  I  think  I  may 
assert  that  he  began  to  be  disillusioned  the  moment  his 
eye  discovered  that  fiendish  little  motto  that  introduces 
one  to  the  'Program  for  a  Day  in  Paradise,'  meaning 
Echino,  my  dear  "Wood.  You  haven't  seen  it  yet?  By 
George,  I'll  quote  the  thing,  for  it's  getting  on  my 
nerves  and  I'd  like  to  work  it  off  through  speech.  Here 
goes  then:  'Rest  is  not  quitting  the  busy  career.  Best 
is  but  fitting  oneself  to  one's  sphere.'  !  Travers  com- 
pleted the  couplet  in  a  nasal  sing-song,  and  then,  after 
a  long  pause,  meant  to  be  impressive,  he  continued  with 
a  melancholy  shake  of  the  head:  "This  man  has  not 
yet  succeeded,  Mr.  Wood,  in  fitting  himself  to  his  pres- 
ent sphere." 

"The  daily  routine  is,  I  understand,  unusual,"  sug- 
gested Wood,  curiously,  looking  along  the  deserted  gal- 
leries. 

"It  is  astounding,"  replied  Travers.  "The  gong, 
which  is  a  relic  from  some  Buddhist  temple,  sounds  at 
sunrise,  as  you  have  observed.  It  arouses  the  faithful 
— as  well  as  the  unbelievers,  like  ourselves — at  hours 


THE    DAYSMAN  159 

ranging  all  the  way  from  four  to  eight  A.  M.,  accord- 
ing to  the  time  of  year  and  the  habits  of  the  sun. 

"After  a  rapt  contemplation  of  an  early  morning 
sky  the  devotees  of  Nature — with  a  capital — are  per- 
mitted to  return  to  their  slumbers  for  a  few  hours,  if 
they  can,  in  order  to  recuperate  from  the  effects  of  an 
overdose  of  the  emotions,  as  well  as  to  reduce  the  tem- 
perature of  the  vocabulary  from  that  state  of  feverish 
excitement  superinduced  by  an  excessive  indulgence  in 
adjectives  coupled  with  exclamation  points.  I  myself 
would  recommend  for  the  purpose  the  plentiful  use  of 
strong,  warm,  practical  verbs,  succeeded  by  cold  show- 
ers of  prosaic  nouns.  In  fact,"  added  Travers,  with  a 
whimsical  smile,  "I  feel  distinctly  grateful  to  the 
Baron  for  voicing  my  own  sentiments  and  bringing  me 
down  to  the  normal  conversational  level.  That  worthy 
has  been  deputed,  it  seems  (because  the  servants  'gave 
notice'  as  soon  as  the  idea  was  suggested  to  them),  to 
sound  the  gong,  which  is  unfortunately  situated  at  my 
end  of  the  corridor,  and  I  have  the  pleasure  of  hear- 
ing him  mutter  repeatedly  as  he  passes  under  my  open 
transom,  'Burn  all  fools,  durn  them,  I  say.'  The 
words  prove  so  soothing,"  added  Travers,  smiling, 
"that  I  find  myself  actually  able  to  go  to  sleep  again. 

"Breakfast,"  proceeded  Travers,  as  Wood  laughed 
appreciatively,  "is  not  an  early  meal  (hence  this  pleas- 
ant tete-a-tete),  but,  at  the  table,  at  least,  every  person 
is  a  free  lance  using  his  or  her  knife  and  fork  in  de- 
fense of  vegetarianism,  fruitition,  mastication  or  what- 
ever one's  individual  food  fad  may  be. 


160  •  THE  DAYSMAN 

''There  is  a  rule,  however,  Mr.  Wood,  which  is  my 
particular  bete  noir.  It  recommends — recommends, 
mind  you — that  every  aspirant  to  the  joys  of  paradise 
occupy  himself  or  herself  during  the  morning  hours  at 
some  useful  form  of  outdoor  labor — labor,  my  friend, 
is  the  word." 

"Is  it  compulsory?"  asked  Wood,  smiling  at  the  lu- 
gubrious expression  of  Travers'  countenance. 

"It  is  obligatory,"  sighed  Travers,  laying  his  hand 
upon  the  arm  of  Wood's  chair  as  though  he  had  some 
weighty  confidence  to  impart,  "because  Eve  rules  this 
paradise  as  well  as  the  first,  and  public  opinion  has  de- 
creed that  there  is  poetic  beauty  in  that  hackneyed 
phrase  'by  the  sweat  of  his  brow.'  In  consequence  of 
which,  Swanson  and  the  other  enthusiasts  don  pictur- 
esque sombreros,  and  artistic  neckerchiefs,  roll  their 
sleeves  to  the  elbow  for  the  better  display  of  brawny 
arms,  betake  themselves  to  a  desultory  tilling  of  the 
soil,  pore  over  volumes  of  horticulture,  experiment  in 
the  culture  of  the  date  palm  and  discuss  the  pros  and 
cons  of  Egyptian  cotton.  Ah  there,  I  see,  are  my  Aunt 
and  Miss  Treverin."  Travers  interrupted  himself  has- 
tily, and  tossing  his  unfinished  cigar  over  the  railing 
of  the  gallery,  went  to  meet  the  ladies,  while  Kichard 
Wood,  following  more  slowly,  wondered  that  so  much 
energy  should  have  concentrated  itself  in  this  pleasant 
little  farce  of  life  which  was,  for  the  moment,  playing 
itself  out  at  Echino. 

A  spot  of  rare  beauty,  endowed  by  Nature  with  ex- 
haustless  hot  water  springs,  whose  medicinal  qualities 
had  been  recognized  by  the  Indian  and  the  early  white 


THE   DAYSMAN  161 

settler  long  before  these  gentlemanly  idlers  had 
dreamed  of  its  existence,  Echino  had  been  purchased 
by  Swanson  from  old  Pierre  Michet  to  be  the  mise  en 
scene  for  the  working  out  of  a  large  Utopian  theory. 
The  plain  white  tents  of  former  days  had  given  place 
to  the  comforts  and  conveniences  of  a  modern  hotel, 
where  these  modern  disciples  of  a  new  thought  were 
making  strenuous  efforts  to  enjoy  that  artificial  sim- 
plicity which  appeals  to  the  imagination  of  the  esthete. 

Paul  Swanson,  the  leader  of  the  movement,  was  a 
man  of  striking  personality  and  boundless  enthusiasms. 
His  energies  demanding  the  constant  reenforcement  of 
expression  had  taught  him  to  do  many  things  well.  The 
son  of  an  indulgent  father,  he  had  traveled  widely,  dab- 
bled in  the  arts  and  trifled  a  bit  with  science,  when  a 
heavy  cold  threatened  to  attack  his  lungs. 

The  doctors  advised  higher  altitudes,  and  Swanson 
became,  at  once,  imbued  with  a  secret  determination  to 
prove  his  metal  by  working  his  own  way  Westward.  In 
apparent  affluence  when  he  said  good-bye  to  his  friends, 
he  arrived  in  Chicago  with  little  more  than  his  ticket 
to  an  out-of-the-way  place  in  "Wyoming.  For  he  had 
quite  settled  the  fact  that  those  uncashed  drafts  on  New 
York  which  lined  his  inner  pockets  were  to  mean  noth- 
ing in  the  new  scheme  of  life,  and  it  was  his  pride  in 
after  years  to  know  them  still  unused. 

When  he  arrived  in  Wyoming  the  first  occupation 
that  presented  itself  was  the  chance  to  dig  a  cellar — a 
feat  which  he  accomplished  with  such  success  that  the 
question  of  food  and  lodging  ceased,  at  once,  to  be 


162  THE  DAYSMAN 

pressing.  Long  before  the  completion  of  the  cellar, 
moreover,  he  had  established  a  reputation  for  fastidi- 
ousness and  grit  that  left  its  mark  upon  the  small  com- 
munity. The  first  day's  work  was  scarcely  over  and  its 
grime  still  upon  him  when  Paul  Swanson  had  startled 
the  proprietor  of  the  small  hotel  by  the  unprecedented 
request  for  a  bath.  Undaunted  by  the  information  that 
there  was  not  a  tub  in  the  house,  the  stranger  was  seen 
to  disappear  within  the  portals  of  the  general  store, 
whence  he  issued  ten  minutes  later,  bearing  upon  his 
shoulder  a  huge  galvanized  specimen  which  the  mer- 
chant had  been  wont  to  recommend  for  the  family 
wash.  He  presented  himself  half  an  hour  later  among 
the  coatless  habitues  of  the  supper  room  in  faultless 
evening  attire,  that  would  have  been  hooted  then  and 
there  save  for  the  fact  that  a  day's  work  which  would 
have  been  no  discredit  to  the  best  man  of  them  all, 
counted  in  his  favor. 

After  having  tried  cow-punching  in  Montana,  min- 
ing in  Colorado  and  ranching  in  Kansas,  Swanson  had 
turned  up  in  Arizona,  where  the  possibilities  of  exten- 
sive farming  appealed  to  his  imagination,  and  there- 
upon, as  Travers  expressed  it,  "he  proceeded  to  have 
transcendentalism  with  the  violence  that  usually  at- 
tends a  second  attack  of  measles." 

His  father  meanwhile  had  died,  leaving  to  this  wan- 
derer the  smallest  share  in  a  large  estate,  and  Swanson 
found  himself  in  a  position  to  indulge  a  whim  which 
his  unusual  gifts  enabled  him  to  carry  out  with  tact 
and  skill. 


THE   DAYSMAN  163 

From  a  large  circle  of  former  friends  he  had  drawn 
just  those  persons  in  whom  he  suspected  a  capacity  for 
the  insidious  ennui  that  preys  upon  an  aimless  exist- 
ence, and  few  of  them  had  failed  to  be  inspired  by  the 
ardent  zeal  with  which  he  endowed  the  enterprise.  The 
idea  was  unique;  Swanson  himself,  not  a  bore,  and 
something  really  new  was  worth  going  far  to  seek. 
Moreover,  they  had  been  assured  of  a  decided  "differ- 
ence" even  in  the  character  of  the  scenery,  of  special 
"features"  in  the  way  of  guides,  each  one  of  whom 
Swanson  described  as  "an  impressionistic  splotch  of 
local  color  on  a  background  of  strong  individuality"; 
for  Swanson  had  corraled  the  Baron  and  old  Pierre 
Michet,  rechristening  them  respectively  "The  Patri- 
arch of  the  Valley"  and  "The  Hermit  of  the  Springs." 

Old  Pierre  was  of  the  race  of  the  Canadian  voyageur. 
He  had  come  to  the  Territory  in  the  'sixties,  with  the 
lure  of  the  gold  strong  upon  him,  but  when  discovered 
by  Swanson  had  almost  given  up  hope  of  attaining  any 
distinction  beyond  that  conferred  by  the  Indians,  who 
had  dubbed  him  "Little  White  Man." 

The  father  of  many  a  trail,  old  Pierre  was  learned 
in  the  wisdom  of  the  soil,  and  in  the  lore  of  curious 
rock  formations.  His  quick  ear  could  detect  each  thrill- 
ing bird-note  through  a  rich  variety  of  song.  He  had 
an  artistic  delight  in  the  gorgeous  plumage  of  his  feath- 
ered friends,  and  the  connoisseur's  pride  in  a  rare  spe- 
cies he  extended  to  every  form  of  life.  He  knew  each 
wild  flower  by  name  and  loved  it  for  its  beauty  of 
form,  its  fragile  perfection  of  detail. 

Modest   and   retiring,  he   was   the   direct   antithesis 


164  THE  DAYSMAN 

of  the  Baron,  and  expanded  only  in  the  genial  atmos- 
phere of  sympathetic  understanding.  It  was  Elizabeth 
Treverin  who  discovered  that  he  had  a  passion  for  ge- 
ology and  a  practical  knowledge  of  the  subject  which 
he  had  picked  up  from  many  sources,  while  to  Pierre 
the  girl's  interest  in  realities  was  a  surprise  and  robbed 
him  of  that  diffidence  which  grew  almost  to  terror  in 
the  presence  of  other  women,  with  whom  he  felt  that 
he  had  little  in  common. 

The  old  guide  was  coming  up  the  steps  just  as  Trav- 
ers  greeted  the  ladies. 

"Ah,  Pierre,  good  morning,"  cried  Elizabeth  Trev- 
erin, stopping  to  receive  a  message  which  he  evidently 
waited  to  give. 

"Your  nower-bed,  Mam-selle — it  is  ready — M'sieu 

Travers — but" stammered  the  old  man,  evidently 

at  a  loss  how  to  proceed. 

Miss  Treverin  appeared  puzzled  for  a  moment,  and 
then,  a  light  breaking  over  her  face,  she  turned  to 
Travers  who  had  waited  while  Mrs.  Winston  was  speak- 
ing to  Wood. 

"How  good  of  you,  Bobby,  Pierre  has  just  been  tell- 
ing me  that  you  spaded  up  my  garden  patch  as  you 
promised  to  do,  but  when  did  you  do  it?  We  were 
away  all  day  yesterday  and" 

"You  forget,  my  dear  Elizabeth,"  put  in  Travers, 
with  dignity,  "that  four  hours  have  elapsed  since 
dawn. ' ' 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  the  girl,  with  amused  incredulity, 
" you  surely  weren't  up  at  sunrise?" 


THE   DAYSMAN  165 

Old  Pierre  was  about  to  withdraw,  but  Travers  took 
him  aside  while  Eliazbeth  joined  Mrs.  Winston  and 
Wood. 

"How  much  do  I  owe  you,  old  chap??"  asked  Trav- 
ers in  a  low  tone,  as  his  hand  went  down  into  his  pocket. 

"Nothing,  M'sieu,"  said  the  old  man  softly.  "I 
have  wished  to  do  it  for  her. ' '  And  with  a  smile  and  a 
low  bow  he  was  gone. 

"Whew!"  whistled  Travers,  "that  means  I've  got  to 
confess,"  and  he  sauntered  lazily  down  to  where  Eliza- 
beth was  talking  with  Richard  Wood. 

"Mistress  Mary,  quite  contrary,  why  don't  your  gar- 
den grow?  Because  heavy  swells  and  charming  belles 
do  the  digging  and  planting,  you  know." 

"Ah,"  said  the  girl,  ignoring  Travers  and  glancing 
at  Wood  with  laughter  in  her  eyes,  "he  wants  us  to  be- 
lieve that  he  has  had  his  share  in  the  making  of  some 
garden. ' ' 

"Are  you  fond  of  gardening?"  asked  Wood,  inno- 
cently. 

"I  hardly  know  yet,"  she  replied,  frankly.  "I  love 
flowers  and  I  thought  I'd  rather  like  to  watch  them 
grow,  but" 

"Just  at  present,"  interrupted  Travers,  pleasantly, 
"the  fine  flower  of  ambition  is  rather  running  to  seed. 
Gardening,  with  us,  Mr.  Wood,"  continued  Travers, 
gravely,  "is  both  a  science  and  an  art,  and  while  we 
may  not  have  mastered  the  science,  we  are  no  longer 
amateurs  at  the  art.  Here  are  some  of  our  rules  as  to 
attitude  and  pose  for  a  man:  Place  the  spade  in  the 
earth,  rest  the  hands  upon  the  spade  and  turn  the  eyes 


166  THE  DAYSMAN 

upon  the  face  of  one  of  the  charming  belles  just  referred 
to." 

"And  the  correct  attitude  for  the  charming  belle?" 
asked  Wood,  smiling. 

"That,"  said  Travers,  "usually  depends  upon  the 
skill  of  the  man" 

"With  his  spade,"  finished  Elizabeth. 

"Upon  the  skill  of  the  man,"  went  on  Travers,  im- 
perturbably,  "with  his  eyes  and  his  tongue.  If  he 
comes  out  with  sufficient  strength  along  these  lines  the 
charmer's  attitude  becomes  that  of  one  absorbed  in  the 
ground.  Ideal  for  gardening,  don't  you  think?" 

"Mr.  Travers."  said  the  girl,  witheringly,  "is  scarce- 
ly competent  to  judge  of  gardening  except  in  the  ab- 
stract." 

"I  rather  inferred,"  said  Wood,  "that  he  had  at- 
tempted something  in  the  concrete." 

"Ah,  I  had  forgotten,"  she  exclaimed  with  contri- 
tion, turning  quickly  to  Travers,  "about  the  spading, 
you  know." 

"Pray,  don't  mention  it,"  cried  Travers,  hastily, 
"gardening  by  proxy  has  proved  a  fiasco." 

"Did  you,"  asked  the  girl  reproachfully,  "employ 
old  Pierre?" 

"I  tried,"  said  Travers,  sadly,  "but  with  the  finesse 
of  a  John  Alden  he  insisted  upon  spading  for  himself. 
And  fer  why?"  demanded  Travers,  looking  around 
upon  his  audience  with  the  slow  wink  of  an  Irish  com- 
edian, "fer  naught,  thin,  but  the  love  of  yez,  if  ye '11 
know  the  reason  why." 

"How  dear  of  him!"  she  murmured,  "and — it  was 


THE   DAYSMAN  167 

generous  of  you  to  confess,"  she  added,  naively,  "that 
while  'Adam  delved  and  Eve  span'  Bobby  played  the 
gentleman. ' ' 

"It  is  good,  at  least,  to  be  rated  as  honorable," 
laughed  Travers,  "but  I  have  other  virtues  as  well. 
You  would  no  doubt  be  surprised  to  hear — all  of  you — 
that  I  have  been  searching  the  Scriptures!" 

"And  wresting  them  to  your  own  destruction,  no 
doubt,"  added  Mrs.  Winston." 

"For  Satan  findeth  mischief  still  for  idle  hands  to 
do,"  quoted  Swanson,  joining  the  group. 

"And  I  find,"  finished  Travers  impressively,  "that 
labor  commenced  when  paradise  ended.  Then,  where- 
fore, glorify  labor." 

"Bobby,"  said  Miss  Treverin,  smiling,  "sometimes  I 
think  that  your  talent  for  the  trivial  amounts  almost 
to  genius." 


168  THE  DAYSMAN 


CHAPTER   XV. 

"'I  am  half  sick  of  shadows/  said  the  Lady  of  Shalott." 

"MR.  WOOD/'  asked  Travers,  as  the  two  men  came 
out  of  the  breakfast  room  together,  "what  form  of 
chastisement  would  you  suggest  my  applying  to  that 
villain  Dumford?  The  effective  use  of  a  horsewhip  ap- 
peals to  me  strongly,  I  confess,  since  I  understand  that 
it  will  hardly  be  possible  to  reach  him  through  the 
law." 

"In  this  case,  certainly,  you  would  appeal  to  the 
law  in  vain,"  replied  Wood,  "and,  as  to  the  other 
form  of  correction,  it  wouldn't  do,  here,  Mr.  Travers. 
Revenge  has  a  fatal  tendency,  you  see,  to  express  itself 
in  but  one  way,  and  the  method  of  attack  is  sometimes, 
I  regret  to  say,  from  the  rear." 

"This  man — one  would  infer — has  not  an  enviable 
reputation,"  said  Travers,  gravely.  "He  deserves, 
you  will  admit,  a  sound  thrashing,  at  least,  and  yet 
you  advise  me  to  allow  him  to  go  unpunished?"  Rob- 
ert Travers  asked  the  question  with  a  quizzical  smile, 
as  though  he  guessed  the  nature  of  the  reply  that  the 
man  before  him  would  make. 

"Not  I!"  exclaimed  Richard  Wood,  with  sudden  ve- 
hemence. "I  ask  rather  the  privilege  of  making  'the 
punishment  fit  the  crime.'  " 


THE   DAYSMAN  169 

"You  want  me  to  surrender  him  to  justice  at  your 
hands — you  would  yourself  take  all  the  risk — and  do 
you  think,"  demanded  Travers  with  gentle  irony, 
"that  I" 

"One  moment,"  interrupted  Wood,  quickly.  "You 
are  mistaken.  There  will  be  no  risk  for  me.  The  man 
is  already  in  my  power,  and  I  know  human  nature  too 
well — at  least  Dummy's  share  of  it — to  doubt  the  suc- 
cess of  my  plan." 

"Which  is??"  questioned  Travers. 

"Which  is,"  replied  Wood  firmly,  "to  see  that  he 
leaves  the  Territory." 

"Whew!"  and  Travers  whistled  softly.  "Here's 
castigation  'for  you,  this  here!'  Even  the  strong  arm 
of  the  law  couldn't  do  better  than  that — providing,  of 
course,  that  the  rascal  prefers  to  remain." 

"There  is  no  question  of  that,"  answered  Wood, 
with  conviction.  "And  as  the  strong  lines  of  his  face 
relaxed  into  a  smile,  "I  very  much  hope,  Mr.  Travers, 
that  you  will  grant  my  request.  It  would  afford  an 
excuse,"  he  added,  persuasively,  "for  the  settlement 
of  several  old  scores." 

"In  behalf  of  whom?"  Travers  hesitated  before  the 
pronoun,  but  Richard  Wood  understood  at  once,  by  in- 
ference the  delicate  suggestion  that  restraint  would  be 
considered  necessary,  that,  where  Miss  Treverin  was 
even  remotely  concerned,  the  punitive  function  could 
not  be  too  inclusive. 

"In  behalf  of  the  Territory,"  said  Wood,  quickly. 
"The  man  has  been  burdening  us  with  not  a  little  un- 
pleasant notoriety." 


170  THE  DAYSMAN 

"Is  such  vengeance,"  asked  Travers,  relieved  and 
smiling,  "personal  or  official?" 

"Both,"  replied  Wood,  laughing,  "for  he  who  would 
wear  her  favor  carries  her  token  in  the  lists." 

"And  you,"  exclaimed  Travers,  heartily,  "have  cer- 
tainly won  the  right  to  do  as  you  may  think  best  in 
the  matter!  Which  reminds  me,  Mr.  Wood,  that  I 
haven't  half  told  you  what  we  think  of  the  way  in 
which  you  managed  that  dangerous  little  affair  of  yes- 
terday. ' ' 

"It  was  nothing  more,"  said  Wood,  hastily,  "than 
the  simple  act  of  shooting  a  horse." 

"With  a  few  attendant  complications,  from  what  my 
cousin  tells  me,"  added  Travers.  "You  don't  imagine 
for  an  instant,  my  dear  Wood,  that  I  failed  to  read  be- 
tween the  lines  of  that  brief  description  given  on  the 
coach  last  night.  However,  I  can  see  that  the  heroic 
pose  is  distasteful,"  he  continued,  smiling,  "and  I 
don't  intend  to  say  more.  Allow  me,  though,  won't 
you,  to  suggest,  before  leaving  the  subject,  that  the 
world  hasn't  quite  forgotten  how  to  appreciate  a  brave 
man  and — I  honor  courage  from  my  heart,  Mr.  Wood," 
finished  Travers  frankly,  holding  out  his  hand. 

"It  makes  a  man  wish,"  said  Richard  Wood  slowly, 
as  he  felt  the  strong,  warm  clasp,  "it  makes  a  man 
wish,  Mr.  Travers,  that  he  really  had  been  brave." 

They  had  paused  at  the  wide  doors  which  opened 
out  upon  a  gallery  where  gay  groups  of  enthusiasts 
were  making  plans  for  the  day. 

"Over  what  are  you  two  men  shaking  hands  so  seri- 
ously?" asked  a  cordial  voice  behind  them. 


THE   DAYSMAN  171 

"Ah,  here  is  Mrs.  Winston,"  exclaimed  Wood,  turn- 
ing quickly,  with  the  relief  of  one  who  welcomes  an 
unexpected  change  of  subject.  "I  feared  I  should  not 
see  you,  and  I  wanted  to  say  good-bye." 

"Good-bye!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Winston  regretfully. 
"Surely,  you  are  not  going  away  so  soon!" 

"For  a  few  days  on  business,"  replied  Wood,  "but 
I  shall  hope  to  see  you  all  here  when  I  return." 

"You  will  find  me,  no  doubt,"  smiled  Travers, 
"completely  prostrated  by  the  rigor  of  the  regime 
which  we  might  have  combated  together  if  you  only  had 
remained. ' ' 

"We  can  try,  later,  what  a  combination  will  effect," 
laughed  Wood.  "I  have  just  received  a  long-delayed 
letter  from  John  Treverin  announcing  your  arrival, 
Mrs.  Winston,"  he  added,  addressing  the  lady,  "and 
what  he  says  leads  me  to  trust  that  you  will  let  me 
have  the  privilege  of  showing  you  something  of  the 
Territory. ' ' 

"It  will  be  a  great  pleasure,  Mr.  Wood,  I  assure 
you,"  replied  the  little  lady,  with  the  frank  enthusiasm 
of  true  appreciation,  "for  we  have  not  yet  ceased  to 
congratulate  ourselves  upon  the  happy  coincidence  of 
your  being  Jack's  friend."  Richard  Wood  liked  her 
at  once,  for  the  fine  tact  with  which  she  allowed  the 
emphasis  of  the  pronoun  to  take  the  place  of  more  defi- 
nite expression. 

"It  is  I  who  have  cause  for  congratulation,"  he  re- 
joined simply,  as  she  gave  him  her  hand. 

"We  shall  be  looking  forward  to  seeing  you  again  in 
a  few  days,"  she  said.  Her  smile  was  warm  and  per- 


172  THE  DAYSMAN 

sonal.  He  had  attracted  this  woman  of  the  world  by 
the  ease  with  which  he  fitted  into  an  unaccustomed  at- 
mosphere and  new  scenes  that  were  a  tax  upon  the  large 
tolerance  of  her  own  code.  Without  analyzing  the  se- 
cret of  his  individual  magnetism  she  understood  some- 
thing of  the  nature  of  his  gift  of  adaptation.  She  knew 
that  to  realize  much  out  of  the  characters  of  others  it 
is  necessary  sometimes  to  subordinate  the  more  vital 
traits  of  one's  own,  and  she  had  learned  to  value  this 
subjective  cognizance  of  the  ego  far  above  the  more 
conscious  altruism  of  unselfishness. 

"Thank  you,  Mrs.  Winston,  and  can  you  tell  me 
where  I  shall  find  Miss  Treverin?"  asked  Wood,  as  he 
was  turning  away. 

"At  the  Spring  House,  I  think,  and  in  hiding,  no 
doubt,  with  her  share  of  the  morning's  mail." 

"Would  you  advise  me  not  to  intrude?"  he  queried, 
smiling. 

"To  dare  is  human  and— I  have  given  advice  be- 
fore." She  looked  up  at  him  archly,  and  he  recognized 
that  he  had  already  won  a  strong  ally. 

"  'He  either  fears  his  fate  too  much  or  his  deserts 
are  small,'  "  quoted  Travers,  gayly,  "and  I  wouldn't 
admit  the  latter  part  of  the  proposition  for  a  mo- 
ment, Wood,  if  I  were  you.  I'll  warrant  you  could 
take  a  trick  or  two,  today,  merely  on  the  strength  of 
yesterday's  deal." 

"You  are  an  opportunist,  I  fear,"  laughed  Wood, 
shaking  his  head,  "but,  nevertheless,  I'm  going  to  cast 
a  die,  in  spite,"  he  added,  humorously,  "of  that  good 
advice  which  Mrs.  Winston  was  tempted  to  give." 


THE   DAYSMAN  173 

"Pax  vobiscum,  then,"  laughed  Travers.  "I  like  a 
man,"  he  added  thoughtfully,  as  he  watched  Richard 
Wood  vanish  down  a  long  avenue  of  trees,  "who  can 
grasp  the  main  points  of  a  situation  at  a  glance." 

"A  remark  that  is  apropos  of  what,  exactly?"  asked 
Mrs.  Winston,  with  a  curious  little  smile. 

"A  remark,  ma  chere  tante,  that  is  apropos  of  indi- 
vidual qualifications  in  general,"  responded  Travers. 

He  realized  that  the  Spring  House  would  be  deserted 
at  this  hour,  and  he  felt  a  singular  pleasure  in  the  fact 
that,  once  more,  he  was  to  see  her  alone.  He  wondered 
if  it  was  the  complexity  of  her  nature  that  attracted 
him.  He  had  been  wont  to  feel  this  same  keen  joy  in 
grappling  with  the  practical  solution  of  some  intricate 
mining  problem,  and  it  was  one  of  his  pet  theories  that 
the  recovery  of  elusive  values  in  ore  marked  the  tri- 
umph of  the  age  over  complicated  process.  There  was  a 
glory  of  achievement  behind  the ,  rich  simplicity  of  a 
concentrate,  and  it  made,  he  thought,  a  larger  appeal 
to  experience  than  the  mere  superficial  glitter  of  free 
gold. 

To  a  rustic  seat  among  the  trees  he  traced  her  by 
the  dainty  linen  frock  which  he  remembered  to  have 
noticed  at  breakfast.  Its  motif  was  simplicity,  and  in 
it  she  seemed  somehow  less  remote. 

"My  excuse  for  the  interruption  will  bear  looking 
into,"  he  announced,  as  he  put  an  envelope  into  her 
hand. 

"You  seem  very  sure,"  she  replied  smiling,  as  she 


174  THE  DAYSMAN 

gathered  up  her  letters  and  made  room  for  him  to  sit 
down,  "that  you're  going  to  need  an  excuse." 

"Forgiveness  like  this  would  put  a  premium  on 
transgression,"  he  responded  lightly.  "My  pardon, 
however,  is  worth  reading;  it  explains  several  things, 

and" he  hesitated  a  second  only,  "I  want  you  to 

understand  why  it  took  me  so  long  to  find  you." 

Following  the  direction  of  his  glance  she  read  his 
name  upon  the  envelope  which  he  had  put  into  her 
hand,  and  saw  by  the  scratched  addresses  that  it  had 
been  forwarded  many  times. 

"From  Jack!"  she  exclaimed,  quickly,  and  "may 
I?"  as  she  caught  the  tenor  of  his  wish. 

"Aloud?" 

"Certainly,  monsieur."  But  he  noticed  with  dis- 
appointment that  she  omitted  the  "Dear  Rick,"  and 
wondered  if  it  were  because  she  suspected  him  of  hav- 
ing heard  her  use  of  the  name  last  night. 

"Mrs.  Winston  and  my  sister,"  she  read,  "are  leav- 
ing for  Arizona,  with  a  party  of  friends,  tonight,  and 
will  probably  arrive  at  Echino  Springs  early  in  Octo- 
ber. 

"I  had  counted  on  doing  the  honors  of  the  Territory 
myself,  especially  that  part  of  it  which  embraces  the 
holdings  of  a  'right  little  tight  little'  property  known 
as  'Queen  Elizabeth  Mine.'  As  things  need  looking 
after  here,  however,  I  shall  have  to  surrender  the  pleas- 
ure and  commend  the  invaders  to  your  care  in  the  hope 
that  you  will  find  time  to  look  after  them  a  bit. 

"How  I  wish  that  I  might  be  there  to  present  the 
best  friend  in  the  world  to  the  dearest  sister  in  the 


THE   DAYSMAN  175 

universe,  but  as  the  Fates  have  decreed  otherwise,  I 
can  simply  say,  amen. 

"Always  faithfully, 

"JOHN  TREVERIN. 

"I  say,  brother  director,  here's  a  good  round  cheer 
for  the  latest  returns  from  the  Q.  E. !  Even  my  grand- 
father is  becoming  an  enthusiast  and  promises  in  fu- 
ture to  be  something  better  than  an  indifferent  figure- 
head of  a  president  for  our  festive  little  company.  By 
the  way,  I  must  not  forget  to  tell  you  that  Barbara  in- 
sisted upon  becoming  a  stockholder  before  she  left  New 
York  in  order  that  she  may  demand,  she  says,  her  right 
to  go  through  a  mine  which  is  the  most  distinguished 
namesake  she  has. 

"Bob  Travers  says  (I  didn't  mention  that  he's  with 
them,  did  I?)  that  she's  the  most  successful  promoter 
he  ever  struck,  because  she  makes  him  feel  so  dreadful- 
ly on  the  outside.  Travers  is  a  nephew,  by  marriage,  of 
my  cousin,  Mrs.  Winston,  and  a  better  proposition  than 
the  'surface  leads'  of  his  character  might  prepare  one 
to  expect.  Seriously,  I  believe  he  is  beginning  to  be 
interested  in  mining,  although  heretofore  he  has  be- 
longed to  the  most  conservative  section  of  the  old 
guard;  but  there's  no  question,  Rick,  that  the  recent 
depression  has  done  its  usual  work  with  the  investment 
public,  which  is  learning  gradually  that  a  desperate 
flirtation  with  mining  isn't  half  as  dangerous  some- 
times as  coquetting  with  gilt-edged  securities." 

"That  is  worse  than  a  woman's  postscript,"  she  fin- 
ished, laughing.  "Frankly,  I  consider  it  the  best  part 
of  the  letter." 


176  THE  DAYSMAN 

"It  is  like  'the  boy,'  "  he  replied,  smiling  reminis- 
cently. 

"Oh,  but  he's  'the  boy'  no  longer.  You  can't  imag- 
ine how  much  older  and  wiser  he  has  grown,  since" 

she  waited  for  a  brief  second  as  though  debating  how 
far  she  might  risk  his  understanding,  "since  you  sent 
him  home." 

"I?"  he  exclaimed  in  amazement.  "It  was  you, 
rather,  who  influenced  his  decision." 

"Did  he  tell  you,"  she  interrupted,  quickly,  "how 
much  I  wanted  it?" 

"He — I — we  all  must  have  seen  that  it  would  be 
best,"  he  stammered  lamely,  with  the  confused  con- 
sciousness of  how  much  he  had  learned  through  a  let- 
ter which  he  was  not  supposed  to  have  seen. 

"Yes,"  she  rejoined,  thoughtfully,  "some  of  us  saw 
it  then  and  all  of  us  see  it  now,  but,  perhaps,  you  don't 
know  that  Jack  has  told  me  of  the  conversation  that 
precipitated  his  decision.  That,"  she  was  speaking 
slowly  and  there  was  a  world  of  meaning  in  the  grave 
eyes  that  looked  into  his  own,  "it  seems  to  me,  would 
mark  with  large  suggestion  the  turning  point  in  his 
life.  I  have  wanted,  often,  to  thank  you,"  she  added 
simply,  "and  you  must  let  me  do  it  now." 

"You  are  giving  me  credit  which  I  don't  at  all  de- 
serve," he  said,  sincerely,  "though  it's  good  to  have 
you  think  that  I  helped  to  make  you  glad." 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence  between  them,  during 
which  she  fitted  her  scattered  letters  into  their  respect- 
ive envelopes,  and  he  watched  a  straying  sunbeam  kin- 
dle myriad  lights  in  her  hair. 


THE    DAYSMAN  177 

"I  wonder,"  he  asked  at  length,  with  an  irrelevance 
which  was  not  habitual,  "I  wonder  why  I  feel  as 
though  I  had  known  you  a  very  long  time?" 

She  smiled  a  little.  Obviously  the  remark  was  a 
platitude,  and  yet  oddly  enough  she  was  accepting  it 
from  him  at  its  face  value. 

"We  have  already  discovered  that  we  have  several 
tastes  in  common,"  she  said. 

"For  instance?"  and  he  raised  his  eyebrows  ques- 
tioningly. 

"First  of  all,  there  is  mining,"  she  smiled  mischiev- 
ously; "we  both  think  it  the  most  fascinating  pursuit 
in  the  world." 

"Do  we?"  he  laughed,  with  the  sheer  pleasure  of 
hearing  her  express  himself  to  himself.  "And  why?" 

She  was  nettled  for  a  moment,  realizing  that  she  had 
not  fathomed  him  yet,  however  much  she  might  pre- 
tend. 

"Because,"  she  began  tentatively,  feeling  her  way, 
"oh,  because  it  has  its  complications,  hasn't  it?  But 
it's  delightfully  simple  when  you  understand,  isn't  it? 
And  it's  worth  ever  so  much  effort  because  of  its  being 
one  of  the  surest  of  the  scientific  uncertainties.  Now, 
pray,  acknowledge  that  I've  succeeded  in  confusing  the 
issues  so  thoroughly  that  you  hardly  know  where  we 
started." 

"But  your  views  of  mining  are  interesting."  She 
felt  that  he  was  laughing  at  her  with  the  humorous 
tolerance  of  complete  understanding. 

"Why  did  you  not  say  unique?  But  I  am  a  can- 
didate for  instruction,  and  I'm  wondering  if  you'll 


178  THE  DAYSMAN 

undertake  to  coach  me.  There  are  so  many  things  I'd 
like  to  learn." 

"The  opportunity  to  teach  you — anything — will  be 

the  chance  of  a  lifetime;  but" his  eyes  challenged 

hers,  "you  have  not  asked  my  terms." 

"Could  the  question  of  terms  make  any  material  dif- 
ference in  a  venture  of  this  kind?"  she  asked  gayly, 
ignoring  his  look.  "Surely  there  will  be  enough  treas- 
ure trove  with  your  experience  of  mining." 

"The  treasure  is  already  in  sight,  and — I  think  I 
recognize  its  value."  There  was  a  subtle  note  of  sug- 
gestion in  his  tone  that  hinted  at  underlying  depths 
of  meaning.  "But  the  final  question  will  be  one  of 
possession,  and  much  may  depend  upon  the  attitude  of 
the  pupil  toward  the  teacher's  large  demands." 

Accustomed  as  she  was  to  the  meaningless  laisser  oiler 
of  playful  conversation  he  fairly  took  her  breath.  The 
words  might  have  meant  so  little  in  themselves,  but 
there  were  the  eyes,  the  voice,  the  manner ;  and  the  fact 
that  he  was  not  the  sort  of  person  to  indulge  in  a  tem- 
permental  experiment,  made  it  look  like  pure  daring. 
His  cool  assumption  of  every  advantage  which  circum- 
stances had  given  him  had  rather  amused  her  last  night, 
but  this  was  going  rather  far. 

"One  might  pay  in  kind,"  she  said  calmly,  "if  the 
debt  became  too  large.  Is  there  nothing  that  the  pupil 
might  teach  you  in  return?"  The  light  irony  of  her 
tone  following  upon  the  veiled  intensity  of  his  own 
made  him  instantly  conscious  of  that  barrier  of  reserve 
— intangible  but  strong — with  which,  as  the  type  of  an 
older  civiliaztion  she  would  guard  against  the  elemental 


THE    DAYSMAN  179 

force  of  primitive  impulse  and  intuitively  he  recognized 
its  law. 

"Couldn't  you  initiate  me  into  the  mysteries  of  gar- 
dening?" he  asked,  laughing,  "as  Mr.  Travers  de- 
scribed it?" 

The  idea  was  irresistably  funny,  and  she  was  caught 
before  she  was  aware  of  it  in  the  eddy  of  that  infec- 
tious humor  with  which  he  drew  her  from  the  stronger 
current  of  his  own  emotion. 

"Ah,  but  you  are  one  of  the  real  workers!"  she 
cried  impulsively.  Then  with  sudden  gravity  and  a 
disdainful  sweep  of  her  hand  that  included  their  sur- 
roundings, "What  can  you  think  of  this — I  had  almost 
said — laborious  play!" 

"I  think,"  he  said,  gently,  holding  her  eyes  with 
that  look  which  she  was  beginning  to  dread,  "that, 
while  theorizing  too  much  about  life,  it  might  be  pos- 
sible to  lose  its  universal  essence." 


180  THE  DAYSMAN 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

Death.    What  need  of  bow,  were  justice  arms  enough? 
Apollo.     Ever  it  is  my  wont  to  bear  the  bow. 
De.     Ay,   and  with  bow,   not  justice,  help  this  house. 
Ap.    I  help  it,  since  a  friend's  woe  weighs  me,  too. 
De.    Who  could  buy  substitutes  would  die  old  men. 

— Browning's  "transcript  of  Euripides." 

"BUT  it  ain't  reasonable,  Mr.  Wood — this  here  thing 
of — invitin'  a  man  to  leave  the  Territory  without  no 
explanation. ' ' 

The  injured  innocence  of  the  tone  seemed  slightly 
out  of  character;  for  the  speaker  was  a  man  with  eva- 
sive eyes,  whose  air  of  sleek  prosperity  gave  the  im- 
pression, somehow,  of  having  been  recently  acquired. 

"You  will  have  the  privilege  of  explaining  several 
things  before  you  are  permitted  to  go." 

Richard  Wood's  reply  rang  with  no  uncertain 
sound.  His  eye  had  been  frequently  upon  this  man 

who  had  turned  up  in  A during  the  past  year  with 

an  attractive  stock  of  curios  that  made  his  little  shop, 
across  from  the  station,  quite  the  most  popular  resort 
in  town.  Disreputable  looking  Indians  and  slovenly 
half-breeds  were  said  to  haunt  the  place  at  unseason- 
able hours,  but  the  fact  had  called  forth  but  little  com- 
ment because  even  the  most  respectable  element  of  the 
small  community  realized  that  a  successful  trader  who 
would  cater  to  the  demands  of  the  ubiquitous  tourist 


THE   DAYSMAN  181 

must  sometimes  obtain  his  wares  through  such  unpre- 
possessing specimens  as  these. 

Swanson,  as  a  student  of  men,  might  have  had  his 
own  private  doubts  of  the  curio  dealer,  but  Swanson 
was  capable  of  keeping  his  own  counsel,  and  thus  it 
happened  that  Dumford  by  some  lucky  chance  was  in 
the  full  enjoyment  of  a  not  unpleasant  local  reputation 
on  that  morning  in  October  when  Richard  Wood  had 
calmly  walked  into  his  shop  and  suggested  the  wisdom 
of  his  shortly  moving  on. 

"I  'spose,"  began  Dummy,  uneasily,  assuming  the 
defensive  in  a  trivial  matter  as  a  point  of  vantage  from 
which  he  might  hope  to  confute  more  serious  accusa- 
tions, "I  'spose  its  got  somethin'  to  do  with  that  durned 
horse. ' ' 

The  shrewdness  of  his  calculations  were  not  lost  upon 
Wood,  who  had  been  studying  the  man's  methods  for 
some  time  from  a  point  of  view  which  Dumford  could 
hardly,  as  yet,  comprehend. 

"Of  course,"  he  went  on,  cringingly,  "I  couldn't 
have  knowed  they  was  your  friends,  Mr.  Wood.  But 
seein'  as  how  there  was  no  one  hurt,  and  as  how  even 
justice  would  say  that  I've  stood  all  the  damage  (by 
which  I  mean  to  mention  the  loss  of  a  valuable  animal — 
in  case  anybody  might  wish  to  make  it  good),  I  think, 
Mr.  Wood,  that  we  might  call  it  square." 

"Such  reasoning,"  rejoined  Wood,  contemptuously, 
"would  only  go  to  prove  that  the  Territory  is  not  to 
lose  a  desirable  citizen — when  you  go." 

"Oh,  I'm  goin',  am  I!"  exclaimed  the  other,  with 
an  angry  scowl.  "Hardly,  I  guess,  Mr.  Wood,  not  jest 


182  THE  DAYSMAN 

yet,  anyhow,  seein'  the  law  can't  touch  a  man  fer  rent- 
in'  a  skittish  horse  to  a  dura  pretty  girl  that  wanted 
mighty  bad  to  have  her  own  sweet  way;  and" 

"Drop  the  matter  of  the  horse,"  commanded  Wood, 
sternly.  "Do  you  think  I've  come  here  to  squander 
time  over  that?  You've  merely  wasted  your  own  breath, 
and  accused  yourself  of  more  meanness  than  I  could 
have  possibly  thought  you  capable." 

"Well,  I  haven't  done  nothin'  against  you,  anyhow, 
have  I,  Mr.  Wood?"  whined  Dummy.  "And  besides, 
I  can't  see,"  he  added  defiantly,  "as  it's  anybody's 
business  to  go  nosin'  around  the  country  findin'  out 
whether  citizens  is  desirable  or  undesirable." 

"You  have  assumed,"  answered  Wood,  coldly,  ig- 
noring the  quickly  suppressed  outbreak  and  its  per- 
sonal note  of  vituperation,  "the  support  of  justice,  and, 
therefore,  I  shall  be  obliged  to  remind  you  that  there 
are  offenses,"  he  paused  significantly,  while  Dumford 
shifted  his  position  uneasily,  "which  the  law  does  not 
overlook. ' ' 

"Suspicion's  one  thing,"  muttered  the  man,  sullen- 
ly, "and  provin's  yet  another." 

"I  never  indulge  in  suspicion,"  responded  Wood, 
curtly,  "although  I  sometimes  draw  conclusions  from 
facts." 

"Would  you  mind  mentionin'  a  few  of  them  facts, 
Mr.  Wood?"  asked  Dummy,  with  assumed  meekness. 

"About  two  months  ago,"  said  Richard  Wood,  care- 
lessly, arranging  himself  comfortably  against  a  back- 
ground of  gay  Indian  blankets  that  had  been  heaped 
upon  a  low  settee,  "it  came  to  my  knowledge,  quite  by 


THE   DAYSMAN  183 

accident,  that  a  twenty-seven-thousand  dollar  gold  bar 
from  the  'Old  Rajah  Mine'  had  been  sent  to  one  of  the 
banks,  with  the  request  that  it  be  forwarded  to  the 
San  Francisco  Mint." 

"That  might  be  interestin',  Mr.  Wood,"  commented 
Dummy,  as  he  rearranged  his  stock  of  Mexican  filigree 
with  an  elaborate  preoccupation  that  was  not  lost  upon 
the  man  who  watched  him  narrowly,  "if  it  wasn't  fer 
the  fact  that  it  happens  most  every  day,  don't  it?" 

"It  was  consigned  to  us,"  continued  Richard  Wood, 
ignoring  the  interruption,  "by  a  man  who  explained 
that  the  bar  was  the  result  of  a  recent  'clean-up  of  the 
'Old  Rajah,'  which  had  come  into  his  hands  in  the 
course  of  trade." 

"Which  was  perfectly  reasonable,  wasn't  it,  Mr. 
Wood?"  demanded  the  other,  suddenly  off  guard. 

"It  might  have  been,"  replied  Wood,  quietly,  "ex- 
cept for  the  fact  that  this  particular  bar  bore  a  faint 
sign,  under  the  stamp  which  identified  it  with  the  ex- 
press company,  as  a  brick  stolen  from  the  stage 

near about  three  years  ago." 

"You  don't  say,  Mr.  Wood?"  exclaimed  the  curio- 
dealer,  with  a  well-feigned  surprise  that  almost  equaled 
the  shrewd  candor  with  which  he  continued.  "Of 
course  I  know  what  your  drivin'  at,  an'  I'm  only  too 
glad  you've  give  me  the  chance  to  explain." 

"That  bar,  Mr.  Wood,  was  traded  off  here,  by  a 
drummer  feller,  in  exchange  fer  a  valuable  consign- 
ment of  Navajo  blankets  which  has  already  been  sent 
East.  I  can't  jest  recollect  the  man's  name,  but  that 
can  be  looked  up  later.  The  fool  told  me  he  had  just 


184  THE  DAYSMAN 

come  from  up  that  way  where  he'd  bought  the  brick  out- 
right fer  cash — as  a  curiosity  to  take  back  home — but, 
havin'  got  into  a  blue  funk  about  bein'  robbed,  he  said 
he'd  like  mighty  well  to  get  it  off  his  hands,  here." 

"Plausible,"  rejoined  Wood,  coolly.  "I  have  had, 
however,  a  rather  detailed  acount  of  the  manner  in 
which  the  bar  was  originally  obtained,  and  I  happen 
to  know  that  a  prominent  part  in  the  robbery  was  taken 
by  a  character  called" Richard  "Wood  paused  sig- 
nificantly— ' '  Apache  Sam. ' ' 

Without  failing  to  notice  Dummy's  sudden  start  at 
the  unexpected  mention  of  the  name,  Wood  went  on 
steadily. 

"This  person  was,  for  a  long  time,  thought  to  be 
merely  a  bad  and  clever  Indian,  but  later  developments 
have  discovered  him  as  the  daring  leader  of  a  band  of 
desperadoes  each  member  of  which  has  defied  capture 
for  years."  » 

"An'  why,  Mr.  Wood,"  asked  Dummy  with  well- 
assumed  indifference,  "air  you  tellin'  all  this  to  me?" 

"Because,"  said  Richard  Wood,  directly,  "I  have 
an  idea  that  you  might  be  able  to  get  a  message  from 
the  authorities  to  this  same  Apache  Sam." 

"Which  is?"  asked  Dummy,  huskily,  clearing  his 
throat. 

"Which  is  to  the  effect  that  by  placing  in  the  hands 
of  the  law  sufficient  evidence  to  bring  his  accomplices 
to  justice — the  entire  band,  you  understand — the  man 
himself  will  be  allowed  to  escape  punishment,  pro- 
viding," added  Wood,  gravely,  "providing  (that  he 


THE   DAYSMAN  185 

leave  the  Territory  at  once,  with  the  distinct  under- 
standing that  he  never  shall  return." 

"And  in  no  way  admitting"  rejoined  Dumford,  with 
a  cunning  leer,  "in  no  way  admittin',  Mr.  Wood,  that 
I'd  be  able  to  get  in  touch  with  this  here  character — 
but  jest  as  a  little  matter  of  interestin'  speculation, 
you  understand — 'spose  Apache  Sam  refused  to  throw 
up  all  the  cards  er  to  show  his  own  hand — let  us  say — 
without  seein'  a  few  of  them  proofs  against  him  which 
the  law  perf esses  to  hold." 

"I  rather  thought,"  said  Wood  quietly,  "that  you 
would  ask  just  that  question  and,  therefore,  I  came 
prepared. ' ' 

Dumford  eyed  Richard  Wood  admiringly.  He  wor- 
shiped astuteness  even  in  an  opponent,  and  it  was  the 
weakness  of  the  man  to  judge  the  strength  of  an  an- 
tagonist by  that  measure  of  acute  comprehension 
which  was  displayed  in  the  reading  of  his  own  char- 
acter. 

Interestedly,  therefore,  he  continued  to  watch  Wood, 
who  drew  from  his  pocket  an  envelope  and  deliberately 
selected  therefrom  a  soiled  clipping  from  a  Tucson 
paper.  It  had  been  cut  with  a  wide  margin,  upon 
which  were  scribbled  in  a  peculiar  hand  the  words: 
"Smithers  delayin'  things  some,  but  here  goes  fer 
moonlight  Saturday,"  and,  by  some  strange  chance, 
the  part  of  a  yellow  mailing  stamp  that  bore  the  name 
of  Sunshine  had  not  been  torn  away. 

"This,"  said  Wood,  lightly,  "was  dropped  by  Apache 
Sam  on  the  night  of  Saturday,  July ,  on  the  desert 


186  THE  DAYSMAN 

near  .  The  handwriting  is  considered  by  experts 

identical  with  that  of  a  letter  now  in  the  possession  of 
the  Bank,  which  bears  (as  this  does  not)  a  sig- 
nature. Also,"  he  added,  pleasantly,  as  soon  as  the 
man  (by  whom  this  telltale  scrap  of  paper  was  picked 
up)  handed  it  to  me  we  traced  to  its  source  the  origi- 
nal telegram,  of  which  this" and  he  indicated  the 

clipping  between  his  fingers,  is  an  exact  copy." 

"But,"  interrupted  Dumford,  moistening  his  dry 
lips,  "how  about  this  here  Smithers?  Ain't  there  some 
point  in  the  use  of  that  name?" 

"In  this  connection,"  replied  Wood,  and  he  watched 
the  other  keenly  as  he  went  on,  "the  name  was  evident- 
ly used  as  a  decoy,  to  divert  suspicion,  it  is  believed, 
from  the  man  who  sent  the  telegram  from  un- 
signed. 

"Smithers,  otherwise  Fowler,  was  even  then  regarded 
with  doubt  in  certain  sections  of  the  Territory,  and 
the  writer  of  this  message  evidently  had  no  scruples  in 
making  the  gentlemanly  bandit  a  scapegoat  for  crimes 
of  another  nature  than  those  usually  laid  at  his  door." 

"But,"  interposed  Dumford,  whose  strenuous  think- 
ing had  been  manifested  by  heavily  knitted  brows, 
"even  grantin',  Mr.  Wood,  that  the  man  that  sent  the 
wire  and  him  that  wrote  the  letter  to  your  bank  is  one 
and  the  same,  I  can't  see  how  you  find  any  connection 
between  him  and  this  here  outlaw — Apache  Sam.  As 
fer  this  scrap  of  paper  bein'  in  the  Injun's  possession, 
that  might  be  pure  accident,  you  know." 

"True,"  replied  Wood;  "through  these  things  alone 
identification  could  not  have  been  established.  And  I 


THE   DAYSMAN  167 

have  not  yet  mentioned  the  fact  that  a  certain  physical 
peculiarity  of  the  outlaw  was  observed  by  the  man  who 
secured  this  clipping."  There  was  a  gentle  firmness  in 
the  words  of  Kichard  Wood.  His  eyes  had  been  look- 
ing squarely  into  Dummy's  own,  but  now  their  glance 
dropped  lightly  to  the  hand  whose  grotesque  deform- 
ity the  man  was  wont  to  emphasize  by  crude  gesticu- 
lation. 

"The  significance  of  this  point  will  be  clear,"  he 
continued,  evenly,  without  appearing  to  notice  the  pre- 
cipitancy with  which  Dummy  found  a  transparent  ex- 
cuse for  pocketing  the  offending  member,  "when  I  tell 
you  that  the  same  person  who  witnessed  the  robbery 
had  observed  a  like  deformity  about  a  certain  man 
whom  he  had  seen  in  conversation  with  Fowler  on  the 

platform  at  several  days  prior  to  the  hold-up; 

also  that"  (Richard  Wood  paused  significantly), 
"Fowler  was  heard  to  address  this  man  by  name." 

An  instant  later,  Kichard  Wood  realized  that  the 
curio  dealer  had  crept  behind  him  with  the  silent  move- 
ment of  a  panther,  that  an  arm  had  been  thrown  about 
his  neck,  that  two  fierce  eyes  were  glaring  down  into 
his  own,  and  then  upon  his  forehead  he  felt  the  chilling 
pressure  of  cold  steel. 

Intuitively  he  understood  that  the  man  was  in  the 
throes  of  one  of  those  mad  moments  of  passion  that 
transcend  reason.  Argument  would  prove  useless  and 
to  attempt  to  escape  must  mean  certain  death.  Already 
the  hammer  had  been  pulled  back  and  when  it  fell — 
for  a  shuddering  second  the  lovely  face  that  swam  be- 
fore his  vision  blotted  all  else  from  consciousness  and 


188  THE  DAYSMAN 

then,  suddenly  through  the  passionate  strength  of  the 
emotion,  he  recognized  a  new-born  impulse  for  life. 

Swiftly  both  hands  went  up — for  there  was  but  the 
long  chance  of  a  hope — and  while  the  right  grasped 
blindly  for  the  weapon,  the  thumb  of  the  left,  with  the 
surer  reckoning  of  instinct,  was  pressed  under  the  men- 
acing trigger  just  as  the  hammer  fell. 

The  danger  that  had  loomed  so  large  was  passed, 
and  Richard  Wood  was  remarking  gravely,  as  he  toyed 
with  the  six-shooter  that  rested  harmlessly  upon  his 
knee: 

"That  was  hardly  clever  of  you,  Dummy.  Your 
case  no  longer  rested  with  me,  and  anything  like  this, 
you  know,  might  have  made  things  harder — for  you." 

"Well,  what's  the  odds?"  rejoined  the  other,  with 
the  surly  defiance  of  spent  fury.  "The  game's  up, 
ain't  it,  and  why  should  I  give  a  damn  fer  the  conse- 
quences  ? ' ' 

"Only  because,"  responded  Wood  with  gentle  irony, 
"you  have  a  unique  reputation  as  a  'Knight  of  the 
Road,'  who  has  yet  to  kill  his  man,  and  that  at  least 
has  counted  to  your  credit." 

"It's  no  more  nor  a  question  of  taste,"  answered 
Dummy,  honest  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  "I've  al- 
ways hated  bloodshed — the  hauntin'  horror  of  murder 
is  my  one  weakness,  an'" after  a  long  pause,  dur- 
ing which  he  stared  shamefacedly  at  his  boots,  "I'd 
like  to  thank  you,  Mr.  Wood,  fer  savin'  me  from  play- 
in'  the  fool  jest  now."  He  jerked  his  thumb  toward 
the  low  settee  as  though  the  embyronic  tragedy  still 
lurked  there.  "You're  the  kind  that's  square,  sir,"  he 


THE   DAYSMAN  189 

added,  suddenly,  as  he  looked  up,  and  for  the  first  time 
faced  Wood  steadily,  "an'  so  I'm  not  afeered  to  trust 
myself  in  your  hands." 

"Your  confidence,"  returned  Wood  gravely,  "shall 
not  be  misplaced." 

"As  I  have  already  said,  the  Territorial  authorities 
insist  upon  your  leaving  a  country  which  you  have 
made  notorious  through  those  frequent  hold-ups,  cat- 
tle rustlings,  and  so  forth,  that  adorn  the  columns  of 
newspapers.  They  have  decided  that  such  property  as 
you  have  acquired  legitimately  will  not  be  confiscated, 
and,  therefore,  you  are  to  be  allowed  a  stated  time  in 
which  to  dispose  of  it,  after  you  have  given  sufficient 
information  to  insure  the  complete  demoralization  of 
your  band  of  outlaws  and  the  capture  of  its  individual 
members;  I  think  I  need  not  add,"  he  continued,  smil- 
ing, "that  you  have  been  too  leniently  dealt  with  to 
treasure  up  any  ill  will  against  the  Territory." 

"So  fur  as  this  here  blasted  collection  of  counties 
is  concerned,  I'm  free  to  confess  that  I  won't  give  a 
durn  fer  it  after  I  am  gone,  but  I  guess  I  can  see  where 
my  thanks  is  due,  and  what's  more,  I  don't  ferget." 

His  sagacious  nod  and  slow  wink  were  unmistakable. 
He  had  conceived  for  Wood  that  pathetic  loyalty  which 
is  discovered  sometimes  in  the  morally  "halt,"  for 
whom  blind  allegiance  is  often  a  surer  guide  than  the 
maimed  principles  of  their  professed  superiors  in 
ethics.  "So  if  there's  anything,"  added  Dummy,  with 
a  certain  new  dignity,  "that  I  can  ever  do  fer  you,  Mr. 
Wood,  I  hope  you'll  be  sure  to  let  me  know." 

"Thank  you,"  responded  Wood  with  frank  simplic- 


190  THE  DAYSMAN 

ity,  "I  shouldn't  be  at  all  surprised  if  you  might  help 
me  out,  some  day  and,  by  the  way,"  he  added,  with 
sudden  recollection,  "you  asked  me  the  last  time  I  was 

in  A to  look  at  a  prospect  you  had  for  sale — I 

hardly  think  I  need  to  ask,"  and  he  smiled  with  the 
keen  insight  of  an  habitual  reader  of  men,  "if  your 
title  deeds  are  clear?  Shall  we  look  over  the  property 
today?" 

"An'  do  you  think,  Mr.  "Wood,"  asked  the  other  with 
unfeigned  admiration,  "that  after  all  this  I'd  be  in- 
vitin'  you  to  git  dropped  into  a  hole  ten  feet  deep  in 
a  lonely  spot  with  me  at  the  top  aholdin'  the  rope — fer 
the  sake  of  sellin'  a  mine?  No,  sir;  I'd  never  do  it, 
though  I  know,"  he  added  ruefully,  "that  the  claim 
won't  bring  me  as  much  in  any  other  way." 

"Nevertheless  we  will  go,"  said  Richard  Wood,  rising 
as  he  returned  the  pistol  to  its  owner,  and  then  he  re- 
marked, quietly:  "The  anger  of  a  moment  is  well  for- 
gotten, and  besides,"  he  added,  with  that  humorous 
smile  of  understanding  which  was  the  secret  of  his  pow- 
er over  many  men,  "this  Dumford,  I  think,  is  no  man's 
fool." 

"Thankee,  Mr.  Wood,"  responded  the  curio  dealer 
with  solemn  fervor,  "once  more,  sir,  thankee." 


THE   DAYSMAN  191 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

Turn,  Fortune,  turn  thy  wheel  with  smile  or  frown; 
With  that  wild  wheel  we  go  not  up  or  down;  *  *  * 
Thy  wheel  and  thee  we  neither  love  nor  hate. 

Smile  and  we  smile,  the  lords  of  many  lands; 
Frown  and  we  smile,  the  lords  of  our  own  hands; 
For  man  is  man  and  master  of  his  fate. 

"JusT  one  month,  two  weeks,  three  days,  four  hours 
and  fifteen  minutes  ago,"  began  Richard  Wood,  calmly, 
studying  his  watch,  "I  saw  you  for  the  first  time,  and 

now" he  spoke  in  a  minor  key  that  thrilled,  with  a 

low  and  winning  note,  but  otherwise  his  manner  was  as 
quiet  and  self-contained  as  though  he  were  requesting 
the  pleasure  of  a  dance. 

"And  now?"  she  repeated  questioningly,  in  naive 
preparedness  for  an  ordinary  remark. 

"And  now,"  he  leaned  toward  her  slightly,  and  the 
words  when  they  came  were  very  clear,  "I  am  going 
to  ask  you  to  be  my  wife." 

"Oh!"  and  the  quick  intake  of  her  breath  hinted  at 
Elizabeth  Treverin's  surprise.  "Why  did  you  do  It 
this  way?" 

"I  was  afraid  you  would  be  startled,"  he  replied 
gently,  "but  I  still  believe  I  was  right." 

"Such  precipitancy!"  she  exclaimed  reproachfully, 
"and  from  you!" 


192  THE  DAYSMAN 

"Would  you  not  rather  understand  from  the  begin- 
ning," he  demanded,  gravely,  "exactly  how  I  feel?" 

"But  one  could  not  be  certain  of  one's  feelings,"  she 
objected,  quickly,  "in  a  month.  More  time  is  required 
for  that." 

"I  have  been  quite  sure  of  what  I  wanted,"  he  an- 
swered, simply,  "from  the  first." 

"Although  you  must  acknowledge  that  you  do  not 
half  know  me,  as  yet."  Her  tone  was  decidedly  scepti- 
cal. 

"Don't  I?"  he  asked,  and  she  wondered  at  his  enig- 
matical smile.  "I  warn  you  not  to  examine  me  too 
far.  The  subject  is  one  to  which  I  have  been  applying 
myself  pretty  studiously  of  late." 

Her  laugh  was  deliciously  merry,  although  he  did 
not  fail  to  detect  through  it  a  troubled  note  of  doubt. 

"Ah,  but  you  have  been  'cramming,'  "  she  cried, 
gayly,  "and  such  work  is  foolishly  superficial;  it 
doesn't  get  beneath  the  surface  at  all." 

"Barbara  wouldn't  have  made  that  remark,"  he  said, 
gravely.  "It  sounds  more  like  Elizabeth." 

She  caught  her  breath  again.  ' '  I  think  you  have  been 
studying,"  she  said  slowly.  "And  you  seem" — quite 
gravely  she  added  it — "to  read  me  rather  well." 

"Do  I?"  he  asked,  with  frank  pleasure.  "That  is 
decidedly  encouraging. ' ' 

"But  I  did  not  mean  to  be  encouraging  at  all,"  she 
said,  quickly.  "In  fact,  you  ought  to  be  told  at  once 
that  there  isn't  the  slightest  ground  for  hope." 

"Suppose  I  absolve  you  from  all  responsibility  in  the 
matter  of  how  it  is  to  end.  Couldn't  you  promise  to  Jet 


THE   DAYSMAN  193 

yourself  go,  and  allow  the  current  to  take  you  where  it 
will?  I'm  almost  sure  that  I  could  win  Barbara,  and 
there  are  times,"  his  voice  was  vibrant  with  suppressed 
emotion  and  she  dared  not  meet  the  challenge  in  his 
eyes,  "there  are  times  when  I  know  that  I  shall  master 
Elizabeth." 

"Please,"  and  she  shivered  slightly  as  she  threw  out 
her  hands  with  a  little  pleading  gesture  of  entreaty, 
"don't  be  so  intense.  I  wish,"  she  added  passionately, 
"how  I  wish  that  you  had  not  spoiled  our  friendship. 
For  it  had  grown  to  be  friendship.  I  acknowledge  that, 
and  it  is  far  from  usual  for  me  to  call  any  one  friend 
after  an  acquaintance  of  six  weeks,  even  though,"  and 
there  was  a  ripple  of  laughter  in  the  troubled  voice, 
"you  have  managed  to  make  the  conditions  more  than 
favorable. 

"I  think  the  singular  intimacy  of  the  relation  was 
possible,"  she  went  on  slowly,  thinking  aloud,  as  if, 
for  the  first  time,  she  were  explaining  the  situation  to 
herself,  "only  because  of  our  having  so  many  vital 
points  of  contact.  Your  loyal  affection  for  my  father — 
those  beautiful  memories  of  my  mother,  the — our  com- 
mon interest  in  Jack — these  are  the  intangible  sym- 
pathies that  have  drawn  us  together,  and  yet  when  we 
do  not  even  know  that  we  have  a  single  tradition  in 
common,  when  we  have  not  thought  whether  our  tastes 
are  at  all  similar,  you  have  the  temerity  to  suggest  mar- 
riage. And  for  the  sake  of  a  very  doubtful  experi- 
ment you  have  been  willing  to  risk  a  delightfully  safe 
friendship. ' ' 

She  had  spoken  with  the  deliberate  frankness  that  a 


194  THE  DAYSMAN 

woman  sometimes  mistakes  for  logic,  and  the  under- 
current of  amusement  in  her  tone  showed  him  that  she 
had  accepted  her  own  explanation  of  the  obvious  as  a 
convincing  argument  that  must  appeal  to  reason. 

"You  have  accused  me,"  he  began  gravely,  "of 
spoiling  our  friendship."  He  raised  his  eyebrows  with 
a  curious  little  smile,  and  she  wondered,  for  a  moment 
why  he  passed  so  lightly  over  the  other  things  she  had 
said. 

"Don't  you  think  that  I  shall  be  able  to  preserve 
what  I  recognize  as  my  only  clue?" 

"Clue?"  she  asked,  doubtfully. 

"And  why  not?"  he  demanded,  smiling.  "If  you 
insist  upon  repudiating  everything  but  friendship, 
then  friendship,  for  the  present,  shall  be  my  guide." 

"Ah,"  she  said  with  relief,  "that  means  you  are  will- 
ing to  maintain  the  status  quo." 

"Certainly,"  he  replied,  gravely.  "Did  you  fear 
that  I  had  any  thought  of  making  love  to  you — now?" 

"You  have  always  been  so  considerate — so — reliably 
impersonal,"  she  rejoined  quickly,  "and  that  was  why" 
she  hesitated. 

"You  had  counted  on  my  not  being  troublesome," 
and  he  laughed  softly  to  himself,  "like  some  of  the 
rest." 

"I  believe,"  he  continued  seriously,  "that  I  was  pre- 
pared for  this  verdict,  although  even  now  I  have  a  con- 
viction, which  may  seem  presumptuous — that  the  case 
will  be  won  on  appeal.  I  promise,  however,  to  give  you 
all  the  time  you  want  while  the  suit  is  pending." 


THE   DAYSMAN  195 

"You  are  generous,"  she  murmured,  with  light  irony, 
"for  an  advocate." 

"It  is  because  I  realize,"  he  responded,  with  a  ju- 
dicial smile,  "that  the  situation  is  difficult.  Barbara 
might  have  been  able  to  care  with  the  splendid  sim- 
plicity of  a  large  and  noble  nature,  but  Elizabeth  is 
ever  on  guard.  Elizabeth  will  not  permit  the  slightest 
shortening  of  the  conventional  novitiate.  Does  she  be- 
lieve, I  wonder,  that  the  ability  to  comprehend  a  sub- 
tle harmony  can  only  be  acquired  by  running  the  whole 
gamut  of  technical  sound?" 

"Are  you  entirely  just  to  Elizabeth?"  she  asked,  ac- 
cepting his  descriptive  phraseology  of  herself  with  a 
direct  simplicity  that  caught  his  fancy.  "And  do  you 
imagine  that  the  deeper  feeling — if  it  ever  became  a 
fact — could  endure  the  test  of  years  unless  there  were  a 
mutual  capacity  for  friendship?" 

"But  you  cannot  eliminate  primitive  impulse,"  he 
responded  quickly,  "and  all  human  attraction  is  in- 
tuitive whether  it  be  mental,  spiritual,  physical,  or  the 
finest  blending  of  the  three." 

"And  yet  is  instinct — even  in  a  woman — entirely 
trustworthy?  One  would  almost  think,"  she  added 
merrily,  "that  you  (of  all  men)  might  believe  in  af- 
finity." 

"Wasn't  it  'affinity,'  "  he  asked,  smiling,  "that  .Mr. 
Travers  defined  as  'the  art  of  agreement  and  the  sci- 
ence of  discord?'  " 

"Did  he?"  with  a  flash  of  laughter.  "That  was 
rather  clever,  I  think." 

They  were  silent  for  a  moment,  breathing  in  the  warm 
beauty  of  a  starless  night  that  shut  them  away  from 


196  THE  DAYSMAN 

those  vast  spaces  of  impenetrable  mystery  which  man 
has  called  "the  desert."  The  monotonous  singing  of 
the  rails  drowned  all  other  sound  from  without,  and 
subdued  to  a  distant  murmur  the  voices  that  came  to 
them  now  and  then  through  the  open  door  of  the  car. 
The  girl's  face  was  in  shadow,  but  the  profile  of  the 
man,  outlined  strongly  against  the  light,  held  a  certain 
determining  note  of  power,  and  it  was  he,  finally,  who 
spoke. 

' '  I  have  never  analyzed  my  feeling  for  you, ' '  he  said, 
gently.  ""When  it  came,  it  was  complete — like  patriot- 
ism or  ambition  or  any  other  of  the  big  passions  of 
life.  The  only  difference  seemed  to  be,"  he  continued 
thoughtfully,  "that  through  the  others  a  man  always 
finds  himself,  while  in  this,"  he  paused  tentatively, 
"in  this — I  somehow  realized — you." 

There  was  a  fine  tenderness  in  his  voice  and  it  held 
her  sympathies  with  its  note  of  appeal. 

' '  I  begin  to  understand, ' '  and  her  words  came  to  him 
softly  through  the  darkness  that  concealed  her  face,  "I 
think  I  know  now,  why  you  have  been  generous  enough 

not  to  be  hurt.  Love" there  was  a  little  catch  in 

her  voice  and  then  it  lingered  shyly  on  the  word,  "I 
think,  is  invulnerable;  it  is  only  vanity  that  can  be 
wounded. ' ' 

"You  must  not  believe,"  she  continued,  slowly,  with 
a  sweet  sincerity  that  clothed  her  words  with  charm, 
"because  I  have  been  so  elaborately  practical"  (and  for 
a  moment  she  recovered  the  tolerant  humor  with  which 
she  sometimes  viewed  her  more  serious  self),  "that  I 


THE   DAYSMAN  197 

deny  a  very  decided" she  hesitated  for  a  better 

word  and  then  used  ''interest." 

"You  have  attracted  me — immensely — from  the  first, 
because  your  life  is  big  and  full;  broader  in  its  inspi- 
ration, more  fascinating  in  its  scope,  than  the  lives  of 
most  of  the  men  I  have  known.  Sometimes  there — in 
our  little  world — we  have  a  dangerous  tendency  for 
peering  through  the  wrong  end  of  the  telescope,  and  I 
think" — in  a  low  voice — "that  knowing  you — has  made 
— me — look — the  other  way." 

She  had  risen,  and,  bracing  herself  against  a  dark- 
ened window,  caught  the  swaying  motion  of  the  train. 
Her  eyes  followed  the  vanishing  rails,  which  fled  away 
into  the  blackness  along  an  ever  shining  pathway  of 
light.  Even  the  few  visible  yards  of  illuminated  steel 
reminded  her  eloquently  of  a  single  phase  of  that  splen- 
did achievement  which  made  her  admire  this  man  of 
action. 

' '  One  can  see, ' '  she  continued,  more  slowly, ' '  how  much 
you  think  of  it  all — this  country,  which  has  so  grown 
into  your  life  that  it  claims  the  highest  allegiance  from 
brain  and  heart.  Suppose,"  and  her  voice  dropped  to 
a  key  so  low,  that  he  barely  caught  the  meaning  of  the 
words  from  where  he  stood  looking  down  upon  her, 
through  the  darkness,  "suppose  I  were  incapable  of 
such — loyalty  to  a — cause." 

"I  know  my  own  mind,"  he  said,  gravely,  "and  I 
believe  I  could  fathom — yours." 

"But  you  must  listen,"  she  began  eagerly.  "It  is 
necessary  to  explain,  because  I  think  you  must  have 
overestimated  me  always.  My  temperament,  I  believe, 


198  THE  DAYSMAN 

is  sympathetic,  but  the  capacity  for  being  moved  by 
things  that  are  beautiful  and  ideas  that  are  great  is — • 
in  me — I  fear,  only  a  sort  of  artistic  appreciation. 

"The  sentiment  of  your  attiude  toward  the  Terri- 
tory thrills  me,  but  should  I  be  able  to  endure  a  test 
of  the  fact?  It  is  like  the  fervor  of  pure  worship  that 
demands  a  principle  of  surrender;  and  there  are  not 
always  the  subtle  odors  of  incense,  the  heavenly  strains 
of  music,  the  soft  lights  filtering  through  stained  glass, 
to  create  an  atmosphere  for  devotion.  No,  please — let 
me  finish.  I  know,  without  your  saying  it,  that  you 
would  not  try  to  confine  my  life  to  your  interests  any 
more  than  I  could  bear  to  narrow  yours  to  the  limits 
of  my  own ;  but  I  should  want  to  be  with  you,  heart  and 
soul.  My  pride  would  glory  in  the  fact  that  you  could 
not  change,  and  yet  do  you  not  see  that  all  this  might 
be  true  where  the  imagination  is  fired  with  a  mere  pas- 
sion for  the  idea,  while  the  mind  is  still  unsatisfied  and 
the  heart  remains  untouched?" 

Her  tone  had  changed,  and  there  was  a  poignant 
note  of  appeal  in  the  voice  that  pleaded  for  compre- 
hension. Outlined  dimly  in  the  shadows,  as  she  was, 
he  could  not  see  her  face.  He  had  only  her  words  to 
guide  him,  and  as  they  melted  away  into  the  night  he 
wondered  if  she  also  were  slipping  from  him  through 
the  fog  of  conjecture,  the  gloom  of  mysticism.  He 
knew  that  his  moment  had  arrived,  and  he  realized 
vaguely  that  his  only  hope  lay  in  some  force  that  would 
set  her  pulses  throbbing  in  spite  of  the  fine  reserves  of 
a  nature  as  yet  unwon. 

Suddenly,  she  felt  a  strong  hand  laid  lightly  upon 


THE   DAYSMAN  199 

either  shoulder,  and  in  spite  of  its  extreme  delicacy 
there  was  an  iron  firmness  in  the  arresting  touch.  His 
voice  when  it  came  was  low  and  stern,  but  it  drew  her 
with  the  subtle  magnetism  of  veiled  power. 

"Even  if  I  agreed  in  this  exaggerated  view  of  your 
personal  limitations,  do  you  think  I  should  hesitate 
about  taking  the  risk?  Do  you  imagine  for  a  moment 
that  I  will  give  you  up?  Can  you  really  believe  that  I 
shall  ever  change?  Reasons  hardly  count  and  theories 
have  no  weight,  for  I'm  going  to  make  you  love  me — 
Elizabeth — as  madly  as  I  love  you." 

His  use  of  the  vital  word,  deliberate  and  thrilling 
when  it  came,  was  a  sudden  revelation  of  profound 
passion.  Accentuated  by  the  wilder  fervor  of  the  ad- 
verb, it  revealed  in  a  flash  the  magnificent  restraint 
with  which  until  now  he  had  held  himself  beyond  the 
impulsive  ardor  of  a  more  concrete  expression.  It  was 
this  virility  of  soul  that  wrested  the  veil  at  last  from 
the  inner  sanctuary  of  her  emotions,  and  for  the  first 
time  she  felt  the  warm  appeal  of  his  personality,  the 
compelling  force  of  his  will.  She  found  herself  awed 
and  strangely  shaken  as  in  the  presence  of  some  new 
and  terrible  experience,  and  the  sensation  filled  her 
with  a  vague  alarm,  a  tremulous  prescience  of  destiny. 


200  THE  DAYSMAN 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

"O  lole!  how  did  you  know  that  Hercules  was  a  god?" 
"Because,"  answered  lole,  "I  was  content  the  moment  my 
eyes  fell  on  him.  When  I  beheld  Theseus,  I  desired  that  I 
might  see  him  offer  battle,  or  at  least  guide  his  horses  in  the 
chariot- race;  but  Hercules  did  not  wait  for  a  contest;  he  con- 
quered whether  he  stood,  or  walked,  or  sat,  or  whatever  thing 
he  did.  *  *  *  Half  his  strength  he  put  not  forth." 

"I  SAY,  Wood,"  and  a  shadow  darkened  the  door- 
way, "everybody's  asking  when  we're  due  at  Phoenix." 

"At  ten-thirty,"  rejoined  Wood,  as  he  came  forward 
to  meet  Travers  in  the  light. 

"What  was  the  game,  Bobby,  and  how  did  you  come 
out?"  asked  Miss  Treverin,  with  sudden  interest. 

"Bridge,  in  which  I  never  speculate,"  responded 
Travers,  laconically.  He  had  a  virtuous  way  of  digni- 
fying his  personal  indifference  for  the  game  into  a 
jaunty  pharisaism  that  amused  the  girl. 

"You  might  have  to  if  you  lived  in  Arizona,"  she 
rejoined,  mischievously.  "From  what  Mr.  Wood  has 
been  telling  me  I  imagine  the  stakes  are  often  pretty 
high  here;  in  fact,  one  might  gamble  shockingly  at 
bridge  in  the  Territory." 

"Bravo!"  cried  Wood,  laughing.  "Miss  Treverin 
means,"  apparently,  he  explained  for  the  benefit  of  the 
mystified  Travers,  but  in  reality  he  was  more  than  con- 
scious of  his  own  keen  pleasure  in  his  growing  ability 


THE   DAYSMAN  201 

to  translate  her  even  in  so  small  a  matter,  "Miss  Trev- 
erin  means  that  a  big  wash-out,  in  the  rainy  season, 
scores  rather  heavily  against  the  railroads.  I  think," 
and  his  eyes  laughed,  "that  she  must  be  referring  to 
bridge  repairs  on  the  Gila." 

"I've  been  learning,"  finished  the  girl,  merrily,  and 
her  flash  of  responsive  understanding  brought  him  a 
sudden  exhilaration  of  spirit,  "how  a  respectably  shal- 
low stream  can  grow  into  a  torrent  that  tears  away 
girders  with  other  artificial  things,  and  how  Nature  in 
Arizona  sometimes  wins  the  rubber." 

"Great  Scott!"  groaned  Travers,  completely  in  the 
dark  as  to  any  meaning  that  might  lay  behind  this  su- 
perabundance of  metaphor.  "The  night  grows  lumin- 
ous in  spite  of  the  fact  that  I  see  no  stars — beg  pardon, 
Elizabeth,  but  you're  completely  out  of  sight,  you 
know. ' ' 

"Bobby,  if  this  is  slang,  it  ought  to  make  one  blush, 
and,  as  a  sign  of  extreme  displeasure,  I'm  going  away, 
to  put  on  my  hat." 

"And  to  think,"  exclaimed  Travers,  solemnly,  "that 
you  should  have  indulged  in  a  pun!  No  wonder  the 
pure  font  of  my  speech  grows  muddy." 

"Mr.  Wood,"  called  Mrs.  Winston,  as  she  caught 
sight  of  that  gentleman  near  the  door,  "aren't  we  just 
getting  into  Phoenix?"  And  Wood  excusing  himself 
hastily,  joined  her  inside  the  car. 

"I'll  allow  you  to  go,  ma  belle  cousine,"  smiled 
Travers,  as  he  barred  the  door  with  his  arm,  "when 
you've  deigned  to  answer  a  question  of  grave  mo- 
ment. ' ' 


202  THE   DAYSMAN 

"Please,  Bobby,"  she  implored,  with  smiling  eyes. 

"Now  tell  me,"  he    persisted,    "weren't   you    most 
awfully  glad  to  shake  the  dust  of  Echino  from  those 
obstinate  little  feet  that  persisted  in  leading  a  loyal 
and   devoted    cousin    into    most    frightfully    'narrows 
ways.'  " 

"I  believe,"  she  answered  demurely,  "that  you  in- 
vited yourself  to  come." 

"Naturally,  because  where  thou  goest  I  would  go, 
also — and  there — have  I  been  buried." 

"But  most  of  the  people  are  delightfully  clever  and 
cultivated,"  she  argued. 

"Is  it  'clever  and  cultivated'  to  be  intoxicated  with 
one's  own  ideas?"  he  demanded  sarcastically. 

"You're  far  more  clever  and  cultivated  yourself, 
sir,"  she  retorted,  with  mock  severity,  "than  you 
would  like  us  to  believe.  Didn't  I  catch  you  reading 
'The  Clouds'  the  other  day?"  and  her  eyes  danced. 

"Of  course  you  did,  because  the  confounded  non- 
sense of  that  place  was  enough  to  drive  a  man — to  any- 
thing. Besides,  Aristophanes  describes  the  Olympians 
more  than  well — almost  as  though  the  old  fellow  had 
met  some  of  them  in  the  flesh." 

"What  could  he  have  said  about  us,"  and  she  laughed 
wickedly  as  she  read  his  annoyance  at  her  choice  of  a 
pronoun,  "so  very  long  ago." 

"  'Us,'  indeed!"  sniffed  Travers,  scornfully.  "You 
are  one  of  the  few  women  I  know  who  can  be  individual 
without  descending  to  eccentricity,  but  don't  carry  a 
strong  point  too  far." 


THE   DAYSMAN  203 

"I  promise  not  to,  Monsieur  Bobby,  if  you  will  tell 
me  what  Aristophanes  could  possibly  have  said  that  is 
apropos  of  modern  life." 

"It  is  in  that  scene,  don't  you  know,  where  an  Athen- 
ian, blase  and  world-weary,  visits  the  'thinking  shop' 
of  Socrates,  and  finds  the  philosophical  old  gentleman 
'holding  subtle  disputation  with  the  rafters'  from  which 
he  hangs  suspended  in  his  basket.  The  dialogue  is 
rich  enough  in  comedy  to  make  a  vaudeville  audience 
laugh,  but  the  part  that  applies  best  here  and  makes 
one  realize  how  little  there  is  after  all  that  is  really 
new  under  the  sun,  is  that  brief  monologue  in  which 
Socrates,  caricatured  into  a  sophist,  says  (after  Frere's 
translation,  not  mine) : 

"  'I  never  could  have  found  out  things  divine 
Had  I  not  hung  my  mind  up  thus  and  mixed 
My  subtle  intellect  with  its  kindred  air. 
Had  I  regarded  such  things  from  below, 
I  had  learnt  nothing.    For  the  earth  absorbs 
Into  itself  the  moisture  of  the  brain — 
It  is  the  very  same  case  with  water-cresses.' 

And  the  Athenian  stranger  replies,  ' '  Dear  me !  so 
water-cresses  grow  by  thinking!" 

"Good!"  cried  the  girl,  clapping  her  hands,  softly. 
"  'Subtle  intellect'  is  delicious  and  'mixed  with  kindred 
air,'  the  very  essence  of  wit.  I'm  awfully  obliged  to 
you,  Bobby,  for  putting  a  heedless  modern  in  touch 
with  the  classics,  and  I  shall  never  garden  again  with- 
out remembering  that  '  watercresses  grow  by  think- 
ing.'" 


204  THE   DAYSMAN 

"You're  keen  enough  on  the  point,"  laughed 
Travers,  gayly.  "In  fact,  your  attitude  almost  amounts 
to  the  confession  that  I'm  trying  so  hard  to  extort; 
now,  tell  me  (his  tone  was  wheedling),  haven't  you 
been  horribly  bored?  Swanson  may  be  a  poet  and  all 
that,  I'll  acknowledge  that  those  sonnets  to  an  Indian 
princess  are  the  most  idyllic  love  poems  I've  ever 
struck,  but  can  you  understand  how  a  man  who  could 
write  like  that  would  finally  come  to  living  out  this 
sort  of  thing?  There  is  life  in  what  he  says,  but  one 
feels  the  artificiality  of  pose  in  what  he  does,  and  no 
wonder  a  wide-awake  world  has  little  patience  with 
Paul  Swanson 's  follies." 

"But  Mr.  Swanson  lived  those  poems,"  she  flashed 
out  at  him  indignantly,  and  then  paused  abruptly,  won- 
dering if  she  were  the  only  person  who  knew  about 
that  early  marriage  of  which  Paul  Swanson  had  spoken, 
but  once.  If  Travers  had  not  heard  that  the  sonnets 
were  written  to  a  real  woman  who  had  been  their  au- 
thor's wife,  then  the  fact  must  have  been  told  to  Eliza- 
beth Treverin  in  confidence,  and  why  should  Paul 
Swanson  have  imparted  to  her  the  soul-stirring  history 
of  a  life  which  he  had  made  beautiful  for  one  glorious 
year — of  a  death  which  had  left  him  with  a  sheaf  of 
wonderful  memories  that  were  made  into  verse,  to  be 
read  some  day  by  the  somber  eyes  of  this  woman's 
child? 

There  was  an  element  of  tragedy  in  the  story,  and 
the  originality  of  Swanson 's  genius  could  so  enhance 
the  value  of  a  dramatic  situation  that  it  became  one 
quivering  heart-throb.  Moreover,  there  was  a  certain 


THE    DAYSMAN  205 

intellectual  fascination  in  the  complexity  of  the  hu- 
man problem  which  tempted  her  imagination. 

"Beware  of  the  man  with  a  romantic  past,  ma  chere 
cousine,"  rejoined  Travers,  with  easy  banter.  "Ro- 
mance may  appeal  to  the  imagination,  but  it  doesn't 
always  pan  out  as  beatifically  as  one  expects." 

Beneath  all  of  his  levity  was  Travers  trying  to  warn 
her?  Had  he  detected  in  Swanson's  attitude  toward 
herself  a  deeper  meaning  than  she  had  yet  realized? 

"You  are  right,  I  think,  Bobby,"  she  answered  with 
a  thoughtful  gravity  that  showed  him  how  surely  his 
bow  ' '  drawn  at  a  venture ' '  had  sent  an  arrow  home : 
but  "romance  could  never  appeal  where  the  ideals  re- 
mained unsatisfied,  and  it  is  only  when  coupled  with 
completeness  of  character  that  an  interesting  past  be- 
comes a  peril  to  the  fancy." 

Richard  Wood  was  in  her  mind,  and  almost  uncon- 
sciously she  found  the  distinction  which  marked  his  dif- 
ference from  the  other  man.  The  one  could  never 
make  a  larger  appeal  to  her  than  that  inspired  by  poetic 
sentiment,  while  the  other  with  characteristic  brevity 
and  force  had  already  begun  to  get  a  grip  upon  her  life. 
Without  analyzing  its  significance  she  suddenly  real- 
ized the  fact.  It  was  a  moment  of  self-knowledge,  a 
glimpse  of  personal  revelation,  and,  with  the  light  full 
upon  her  face,  Travers  could  see  how  swiftly  her  color 
came  and  went. 

With  the  easy  tact  of  habitual  courtesy  he  changed 
the  subject  quickly,  not  by  the  abrupt  introduction  of 
a  new  topic,  but  rather  through  a  lighter  treatment  of 
the  same  vein  of  thought. 


206  THE    DAYSMAN 

"Acknowledge,  'honest  Injun,'  Queen  Bet — as  one 
used  to  put  it  when  a  boy — that  nothing  but  ennui 
drove  you  to  Echino  Springs,  and  promise  that  you'll 
never  go  back.  Do  you  remember  how  I  used  to  make 
you  do  things  in  the  days  before  we  grew  up?  What 
a  frightful  little  bully  I  was!"  and  Travers  chuckled 
reminiscently  while  his  eyes  twinkled  merrily. 

"I  haven't  forgotten,"  and  she  smiled  indulgently, 
"that  you  always  insisted  upon  getting  your  own  way, 
and,  unfortunately,  you  are  not  quite  yet  over  that 
habit,  I  think." 

"I  could  frighten  anything  out  of  you  then,"  con- 
tinued Travers,  jovially,  "by  threatening  to  marry  you 
some  day,  and  you  can't  imagine  what  sport  it  was, 
Elizabeth,  to  hear  you  read  the  riot  act  and  to  make 
you  declare  as  you  stamped  your  foot,  that  you'd  al- 
ways do  just  as  you  pleased." 

"I  remember,"  she  laughed,  "that  your  strongest 
argument  was  summed  up  in  a  scornful  demand  as  to 
whether  I  had  even  known  a  real  grown-up  man  who 
failed  to  get  exactly  what  he  wanted  to  have." 

"And  your  experience  of  the  genus  homo,  not  being 
then  as  broad  as  it  is  now,  backed  up  my  logic." 

"You  ruled  like  a  small  tyrant." 

"And  you  obeyed  like  a  little  trump,  but  always  on 
condition,  always  on  condition,  Queen  Bet,  that  I'd 
let  you  off  from  paying  the  penalty  of  that  dreadful 
threat." 

"To  think,"  she  exclaimed  with  mock  contrition, 
"that  I  stooped  to  bribe!  But  then,"  and  her  face 
brightened  hopefully,  "the  single  ray  of  light  on  my 


THE    DAYSMAN  207 

very  sad  case  is  the  fact  that  I  had  not  yet  learned  to 
reason. ' ' 

"Since  then,  Queen  Bet,  since  then,  ma  chere,"  and 
Travers'  sigh  had  an  undercurrent  of  something  deep- 
er than  nonsense,  "the  tables  have  indeed  turned  and 
things  are  quite  the  other  way.  Bribery  left  me  tri- 
umphant, but  reason  has  pronounced  me  vanquished." 

"Aren't  you  going,"  asked  the  girl  gently,  "aren't 
you  going  to  let  me  get  my  hat?" 

"Not,"  said  Travers,  his  tone  changing  as  he  dropped 
the  jocose  manner  which  he  usually  maintained,  "not 
until  you've  told  me,  Queen  Bet,  whether  time  isn't 
making  it  worth  while  for  a  man  to  hope." 

"Don't,  Bobby,  please,"  and  she  withdrew  the  hand 
which  he  was  attempting  to  seize,  "we've  settled  that 
question  so  many  times,  and  you're  such  a  comfort  as 
you  are — a  perfect  treasure  of  a  friend." 

"Not  that,  thank  you,  Queen  Bet,"  and  he  laughed 
softly,  as  he  patted  the  recaptured  fingers,  "I'm  never 
to  be  included  in  the  sad  army  of  recruits  whom  you 
call  by  the  name  of  friend.  Deny  me  the  privileges  of 
a  lover  and  I  insist  upon  my  rights  as  a  cousin."  He 
raised  the  hand  that  he  held  and  drew  it  lightly  across 
his  cheek,  until  the  cool  palm  rested  against  the  warm 
breath  of  his  lips;  then  restored  it  with  the  finest  chiv- 
alry of  his  race.  "You  may  go  now,  little  girl,"  he 
said  gently.  "There  are  the  lights  of  Phoenix,  and  I 
think — you  want  your  hat." 


208  THE   DAYSMAN 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

"When  each  the  other  shall  avoid, 
Shall  each  by  each  be  most  enjoyed." 

IT  was  a  mild  December  afternoon  in  the  late  nine- 
ties, and  the  repose  of  Christmas  reigned  over  Queen 
Elizabeth. 

A  faint  breath  of  smoke,  drifting  lazily  from  the  huge 
black  stacks  whence  volumes  of  sulphurous  clouds 
were  wont  to  issue,  furnished  silent  testimony  to  that 
palpitating  quiescence  which  marks  the  rest  of  slumber- 
ing energies. 

In  the  absence  of  all  usual  sound  the  intense  still- 
ness could  be  felt,  and  almost  unconsciously  one 
listened  through  a  strange  hush  for  the  dull  roar  of 
the  smelters,  for  the  incessant  grinding  and  crushing 
and  pounding  of  mills,  or  even  for  the  audible  panting 
of  some  distant  furnace  blast. 

Like  a  lusty  young  giant  the  thriving  city  had 
sprawled  over  rugged  mountains,  stretched  long  arms 
down  the  entire  length  of  the  canyon,  and  was  reaching 
far  out  over  the  broad  mesa  beyond.  The  ten  years 
that  had  elapsed  from  the  first  conception  of  the 
thought  to  the  final  birth  of  the  idea  had  wrought  many 
changes  in  Queen  Elizabeth — changes  whose  ultimate 
achievement  had  attracted  the  attention  of  a  world  al- 


THE   DAYSMAN  209 

ready  interested  in  the  wonderful  mining  camps  of  the 
Southwest.  But  how  many  of  those  who  look  on  ap- 
preciate the  faith  for  development  and  perseverance  in 
execution  which  characterize  such  an  enterprise  from 
its  earliest  beginnings,  endowing  judgment  with  an 
almost  prophetic  foresight?  How  many  understand 
that  the  carrying  out  of  a  dream  is  as  nothing  to  its 
inception  in  the  brain  of  an  originator,  who  fathers 
the  created  thing  even  before  it  has  been  given  the 
form  of  actual  realization? 

The  monumental  significance  of  Queen  Elizabeth, 
however,  was  a  sentiment  that  would  appeal  to  few 
persons  who  looked  out  upon  her  concentrated  activities. 
Any  suggestion  of  the  ideal,  indeed,  would  have 
seemed  strangely  out  of  harmony,  no  doubt,  with  the 
drilling,  the  blasting,  and  the  tearing  that  were  dem- 
onstrating through  practical  results  the  vital  secrets  of 
the  eternal  hills,  but  beyond  the  noise,  the  smoke  and 
the  turmoil,  far  across  vast  plains  of  intervening  space, 
loomed  the  clearer  beauty  of  her  far  horizon,  like  a  rare 
atmosphere  of  sentiment  for  the  undimmed  star  of 
truth. 

"I  wonder  what  the  old  boss  would  say  if  he  could 
see  things  as  they  are  today." 

The  Baron  was  again  talking,  and  one  noted  in  him 
that  peculiar  relish  for  reminiscence  which  is  the  surest 
sign  of  age.  Pacing  up  and  down  in  front  of  the  pic- 
turesque little  hotel,  whose  quaint  mission  architecture 
was  perched  high  aloft  on  a  steep  hillside,  the  Baron 
commanded  a  superb  view  of  his  surroundings — a  view 
which  evidently  inspired  retrospect. 


210  THE   DAYSMAN 

"I  remember  as  if  it  was  yesterday  that  stormy 
night  he  died,  and  to  think  that  it's  his  daughter  Dick 
Wood  has  brung  down  here  today." 

The  Baron's  listener,  a  youth  with  journalistic  ten- 
dencies, was  too  palpably  absorbed  in  the  present  to 
spare  much  sympathy  for  the  past,  and  there  was  a 
touch  of  professional  "business"  in  his  manner  of  han- 
dling the  old  man  that  made  the  worthy  veteran  more 
stubbornly  prolix. 

"There  was  to  have  been  some  function,  I  under- 
stood, in  honor  of  this  daughter  of  the  late  Treverin," 
put  in  the  reporter,  insinuatingly. 

"Queen  Elizabeth  through  the  Looking  Glass,"  was 
the  heading  of  that  news  column  to  which  he  devoted 
his  talents,  and,  since  gossip  had  become  for  the  mo- 
ment the  metier  by  means  of  which  he  aspired  to  local 
fame,  the  reporter  could  scent  a  social  item  from  afar. 

"Of  course  there's  to  be  a  function,"  returned  the 
Baron  sententiously,  "the  biggest  thing  I've  ever  heard 
tell  of  happenin'  in  these  diggins'  but  you  can  under- 
stand that  I've  been  told  to  keep  mum,  Mr.  Muggins." 

"Surprise,  I  suppose,"  hinted  Muggins,  "although 
things  look  mighty  quiet  around  here,  Baron,"  and  he 
glanced  meaningly  toward  the  hotel.  "The  clerk  up 
there  informed  me  that  the  manager,  as  well  as  pretty 
much  the  whole  force,  were  taking  a  day  off,  and  I 
couldn't  get  anything  beyond  an  everyday  dinner  if  it 
is  Christmas." 

"Day  off!"  sniffed  the  Baron  scornfully,  "I  guess 
they  never  had  a  bigger  day  on ;  but  your  right  in  think- 


THE   DAYSMAN  211 

in'  that  there  ain't  goin'  to  be  no  dinin'  an'  winin'  up 
there." 

"Indeed?"  and  the  inflection  of  Muggins  suggested 
many  meanings  the  most  patent  of  which  was,  perhaps, 
doubt.  "So  it's  to  be  a  dinner,  then?  Now  the  ques- 
tion is,  where f"  thought  Muggins,  but  he  only  said: 
"I've  been  rather  wondering,  Baron,  why  you  came  to 
be  sent  down  to  Queen  Elizabeth  from  the  Springs." 

"Because,"  and  the  Baron's  air  of  importance  was 
a  pleasant  thing  to  see,  "I  happen  to  be  one  of  the 
few  which  can  find  their  way  through  the  earliest  work- 
ings of  this  here  mine,  and  an  inspection  of  some  aban- 
doned diggins'  is  to  be  made." 

"Most  visitors  are  interested  in  the  latest  modern 
equipments,"  said  Muggins. 

"And  most  visitors  is  not  the  old  boss'  daughter," 
responded  the  Baron,  with  a  triumphant  flourish  of 
emphasis  on  the  point  that  had  aroused  so  slight  an  in- 
terest in  Muggins. 

"But  if  you  were  sent  down  here  to  show  this  party 
through  the  mine,  why  are  you  above  ground  now?" 
demanded  Muggins,  with  a  sly  intent  of  suddenly  forc- 
ing the  Baron's  hand.  "They  went  down  fully  an 
hour  ago." 

"While  I  was  sent  up  to  have  a  bite  at  the  hotel, 
after  which  I'm  to  join  them  in  the  mine,"  rejoined 
the  Baron  with  impressive  slowness  and  the  coolness  of 
one  who  understands  thoroughly  the  principle  of  excit- 
ing interest  through  prolonging  suspense. 

"I  should  think  they  would  have  finished  by  that 
time,"  returned  Muggins,  with  a  lofty  air.  "You  surely 


212  THE   DAYSMAN 

must  have  gotten  mixed  in  your  dates  somewhere, 
Baron.  Maybe  it  was  changing  time  at  Phoenix,"  add- 
ed the  reporter,  facetiously. 

"Now,  young  man,  look  here,"  said  the  Baron  sol- 
emnly, "ain't  you  heered  yet  that  I'm  known  all  over 
the  Territory  as  the  only  one  that  can  make  an  appoint- 
ment and  keep  it  in  Phcenix?" 

"And  how  do  you  do  it,  Baron?"  asked  the  re- 
porter good-naturedly,  playing  to  the  old  man's  ego- 
ism. 

"Well,"  said  the  Baron,  "seein*  as  I'm  the  for- 
tunate possessor  of  three  watches,  each  of  which  has 
been  received,  Mr.  Muggins,  as  a  testimonial  for  ability 
in  my  own  line,"  he  added  impressively,  "I  jest  keep 
them  all  agoin'  at  once,  and  each  one  set  at  a  differ- 
ent time  when  I  happen  to  be  in  Phoenix.  Here's  the 
watch  fer  ketchin'  trains  South,"  and  the  Baron  drew 
a  huere,  old-fashioned  chronometer  from  one  pocket; 
"and  here's  the  little  friend  that  helps  me  out  when 
I'm  booked  fer  the  North,"  he  explained,  and  he  dis- 
played proudly  a  child's  dainty  watch,  which  "had 
been  conferred  by  its  owner.  "This  here  is  'old  faith- 
ful,' my  dinner-bell  that  I  always  set  by  the  big  clock 
in  the  Hotel  at  Phcenix." 

The  Baron  was  about  to  re-pocket  the  last  timepiece, 
which  was  a  specimen  of  the  ordinary  Waterbury  vari- 
ety, when  Muggins  interrupted. 

"That's  a  curious  collection,  Baron — the  big,  old- 
fashioned  thing,  especially.  How  did  you  come  by  it?" 

"That  watch  was  given  to  me,"  said  the  Baron, 
plunging  into  his  tale  with  the  eager  haste  of  one  to 


THE   DAYSMAN  213 

whom  the  art  of  talking  is  a  distinct  pleasure,  "that 
was  given  to  me  by  the  manager  of  a  travelin'  company 

of  actors  that  came  to in  the  seventies.  He  said 

it  was  meant  as  a  token  of  friendship  and  fer  bravery 
in  action. 

"You  wouldn't  believe,  I  guess,  Mr.  Muggins,  that 
the  plays  of  Shakespeare  could  be  awful  popular  in  a 
rough-and-tumble  mining  camp,  but  it  was  a  fact,  I 
tell  you,  that  'Julius  Csesar'  took  mighty  well — play- 
irr'  every  night  straight  fer  two  weeks  to  a  full  house. 
But  the  last  day,  after  the  handbills  had  been  posted 
and  the  tickets  sold,  the  man  that  played  the  part  of 
Csesar  jest  up  and  got  sick,  an'  the  manager  was  so 
cut  up  about  it  that  I  offered  to  help  him  out.  He 
didn't  wait  long  to  accept  my  services,  you  can  just 
bet,  seein'  as  I  was  the  only  feller  in  town  that  was 
tall  enough  to  look  decent  in  that  there  gaudy  lookin* 
purple  calico  rig  called  a  Roman  too-gay,  and  when  I 
got  the  thing  on  with  all  the  other  fixins'  of  the  outfit 
that  went  with  it,  there  was  an  American  an  awful  lot 
too-gay,  you  can  imagine. 

"But  the  rehearsal  was  goin'  on  by  that  time,  an'  I 
had  to  keep  an'  eye  out  sharp  to  avoid  trompin'  all 
over  the  blasted  skirts  of  the  thing  when  I  moved  across 
that  durned  stage.  I  was  confused  enough  as  it  was, 
fer  jest  after  I  got  all  dressed  up  the  manager  rushed 
up  an'  says,  'of  course  you  know  your  lines,  my  dear 
Baron,  but  I  want  to  show  you  one  or  two  cuts — our 
special  improvement  on  the  original,'  he  says,  winMn* 
his  weather  eye.  'Old  Bill  8.  didn't  make  all  of  his 


214  THE    DAYSMAN 

pints  quite  sharp  enough  fer  a  cow-puncher's  wit,'  he 
added  laughin',  'an'  I  hear  we're  goin'  to  have  a  house 
full  of  wild  boys  tonight!' 

"  'Lines,  nothin,'  I  answered,  sort  of  scared,  'who 
said  I  knew  my  lines?' 

"  'D'ye  mean  to  say,'  he  asked,  lookin'  blank,  'that 
you've  never  learned  the  part?' 

"  'Of  course  not,'  I  responds,  eyein'  him  scornful- 
like,  'never  heard  of  it  till  you-all  come  to  town,  but 
haven't  I  been  here  every  night  since,  and  can't  a  fel- 
ler catch  on  in  that  time?  I  know  what's  done  an' 
I  can  give  the  sense  of  everything  which  is  said.  What 
more  would  you  want?'  says  I. 

"  'And  may  heaven  help  us,'  sez  he,  'but  we've  got 
to  get  through  with  it  now,'  and  with  that  we  ups  and 
begins. 

"Well,  even  the  manager  was  surprised,  when  he 
seen  that  I  done  so  well.  Of  course,  there  was  times 
when  I  didn't  know  exactly  what  to  say,  but  I  got 
over  them  by  jest  rarin'  up  my  head  an'  lookin'  grand, 
and  that  kind  of  actin'  took  fine  with  the  cow-boys  in 
the  evenin'.  The  manager  was  awful  worried  at  the 
way  I  expressed  myself  in  the  scene  betwixt  Caesar  and 
his  wife  in  their  palace  (when  it's  thunderin'  and 
lightnin'  outside),  but  some  folks  thought  my  way  of 
sayin'  things  a  heap  better  than  Shakespeare's,  seein' 
I  was  short  and  got  straight  to  the  point.  I  never 
could  remember  the  real  words,  but  what  I  said  was 
somethin'  like  this: 

"  'Hell,  but  it's  rainin'  outside  and  Gaily 's  called 


THE   DAYSMAN  215 

murder  three  times  in  her  sleep.     Fer  heaven's  sake, 
who's  there?'  " 

"But  by  far  the  most  excitin'  part  of  my  experience 
happened  durin'  the  evenin'  performance  in  that  part 
of  the  play  where  Caesar  goes  to  Congress,  and  as  soon 
as  he  saw  Brutus  there  the  two  of  them  begun  jawin' 
back  and  forth,  until  finally  Caesar  asks,  kind  of  scorn- 
ful: 

"  'Hey,  Brutus,  what  d'ye  mean  by  kneelin'  there 
in  yer  socks?'  (an'  by  the  way,  Mr.  Muggins,  I  never 
could  see  the  pint  of  that  remark,  for  Brutus  was  wear- 
in'  heavier  boots  than  any  man  on  the  stage). 

"But  to  go  on  with  my  story:  At  that  remark  of 
Caesar  another  feller,  I  ferget  his  name,  but  he  was 
some  old  pal  of  Brutus',  jumps  to  his  feet  with  an 
angry  snort,  draws  a  big  knife  and  cries: 

"  'I'll  let  this  here  (meanin'  his  knife)  do  my  talkin' 
fer  me,'  and  at  that  pint  Caesar  gets  stabbed,  while 
Brutus  and  several  others  puts  in  their  oars,  or  in  other 
words,  their  knives.  Cassidy  (if  I  remember  the  name 
right)  was  one  of  the  fiercest,  bein'  a  lean  little  Roman 
that  Caasar  hated  because  he  wasn't  fat. 

"I,  actin'  as  Caesar,  had  no  more  than  uttered  those 
dyin'  words  which  never  did  have  any  sense  to  me — 
you  know  how  they  go,  kind  of  a  sad  sort  of  jeer: 

"  'Seein'  as  how  you've  all  et  up  Brutus,  go  ahead 
now;  why  don't  you?  Jest  fall-to  on  Caesar.' 

"Well,  when  the  cow-punchers  in  the  back  of  the 
room  heard  them  words  they  begun  stampedin'  like 
mad,  and,  makin'  a  rush  for  the  stage,  they  landed 
right  amongst  us  so  all-fired  quick  that  we  didn't  know 


216  THE   DAYSMAN 

where  we  was  at.  They  was  drawin'  knives  and  pullin' 
out  guns,  and  pushin'  me  back  kind  of  pertectin'  like, 
exelaimin'  all  the  while: 

"  'Jest  you  keep  quiet,  Mr.  Cassar,  we'll  do  your 
fightin'  fer  you.  We'll  give  these  low-down  curs  hell, 
since  they  don't  know  how  to  play  fair — all  pitchin' 
into  a  man  at  once.' 

"Well,  as  soon  as  I  seen  how  it  was,  I  pulled  off 
them  too-gay  rags  mighty  dura  quick,  and  showed  them 
that  it  was  all  play  an'  how  I  wasn't  hurt  fer  sure, 
an'  that's  what  ended  the  thing  without  bloodshed  an' 
won  me  this  here  watch  that  I  call  my  Roman  hair- 
loom." 

"Surely,  the  critics  would  call  that  realism  in  art," 
commented  Muggins,  with  a  ready  laugh.  "And  now, 
Baron,  suppose  we  eat  together  and  have  a  bottle  of 
something  that  would  make  a  toast  to  your  long  ex- 
perience in  the  Territory  worth  while."  For  Mug- 
gins still  had  visions  of  forcing  the  Baron  to  divulge 
what  was  going  on  in  the  mine.  He  suspected  some- 
thing spectacular,  something  that  might  write  up  into 
a  good  story,  and  Elizabethan  life,  as  seen  "Through 
the  Looking-Glass "  had  been  somewhat  dull  of  late. 

In  the  meantime,  "Kichard  Wood's  Christmas 
party,"  as  Travers  called  it,  had  been  dropped  by  a 
great  hydraulic  hoist  into  a  nether  world  along  whose 
deserted  corridors  there  echoed  no  sound  of  pick  or 
drill,  for  the  'spirit  of  the  day'  had  penetrated  even  to 
these  lowest  depths,  driving  forth  from  the  realm  of 
darkness  every  worker  of  the  night. 

"Have  you  noted,  ma  cousine,  the  festive  decoration! 


THE   DAYSMAN  217 

of  these  magnificent  lifts  which  are  technically  called 
hoists?"  asked  Travers  gayly,  as  he  helped  Miss  Trev- 
erin  to  alight,  several  thousand  feet  below  the  surface. 

"This  is  a  gala  day  for  Queen  Elizabeth,  you  know," 
explained  Wood,  "and  besides  we  have  some  apprecia- 
tion of  the  immense  value  of  our  cargoes,"  he  added, 
smiling  around  upon  the  merry  group  that  was  gathered 
about  the  foot  of  the  shaft. 

"As  though  we  didn't  have  a  faint  idea  of  the  rich 
treasure  that  goes  up  in  this  elevator  every  day!"  ex- 
claimed Elizabeth  Treverin,  with  a  merry  laugh. 

"Wealth  isn't  always  computed  in  ore.  It  amounted, 
once,  to  a  'goodly'  pearl.  'The  pearl  of  great  price 
has  been  found,'  you  know,  but  how  to  possess  it — ah, 
there's  the  rub,  and — late  tonight  you  are  going  away." 

It  was  Richard  Wood's  low  voice  in  her  ear,  and  she 
knew  that  his  rapid  utterance  of  the  brief  aside  thrilled 
her  like  the  music  of  some  well-remembered  strain. 
Not  once  since  the  night  when  he  had  asked  her  to 
marry  him  had  he  referred  to  this  subject  by  word  or 
look,  and  she  realized,  now,  the  significance  of  her  fear 
that  he  meant  perhaps  never  to  speak  of  it  again. 

Had  she  actually  begun  to  care,  or  was  it  only  that, 
in  the  weakness  of  a  woman's  vanity,  she  had  been  loth 
to  believe  that  he  could  so  easily  forget  ?  She  had  rather 
hoped  that  she  was  free  from  that  sort  of  thing;  she 
had  even  imagined  that  her  head  could  not  be  turned 
by  the  mere  "incense"  of  love,  and  yet — there  was 
some  subtle  quality  in  his  admiration  that  made  it  dif- 
ferent to  her,  from  that  of  others,  while  her  own  sen- 
sations defied  analysis. 


218  THE   DAYSMAN 

She  was  relieved  that  there  was  no  time  for  a  reply 
to  his  introduction  of  the  dangerous  topic;  and  still 
she  felt  a  warm  sense  of  happiness  in  the  memory  of 
his  words,  a  keen  pleasure,  almost,  in  the  confusion  of 
that  moment  which  had  permitted  them  to  be  spoken. 

"Do  you  realize,"  demanded  Travers,  who  had  re- 
turned to  her  side  while  Richard  Wood  was  busying 
himself  with  the  comfort  of  his  other  guests,  "do  you 
realize  that  down  here  are  over  a  hundred  miles  of 
track,  all  brilliantly  lighted  by  electricity,  and  as  many 
more  miles  of  rock-hewn  galleries  where  a  track  has 
never  been  laid?  Groping  one's  way  into  a  silent  stope 
seems  only  an  idea  of  the  romantic  past,  for  this  mine, 
as  you  see,  is  as  bright  as  day." 

"To  think,  Bobby,  that  you  have  learned  so  much 
more  about  it  all  than  I  know,  and  yet  you  are  cruel 
enough  to  give  one  no  hint  of  the  surprise!  Now, 
wouldn't  you  like  to  tell  me,"  and  she  gave  Travers 
the  benefit  of  a  pair  of  reproachful  eyes,  "just  where 
we  are  going  in  these  dear  little  cars  ? ' '  with  a  dramatic 
wave  of  her  hand  toward  the  gayly  bedecked  ore-car- 
riers wherein  Wood  was  rapidly  seating  his  guests. 

"We  are  going,"  began  Travers,  with  a  mocking 
air  of  mystery,  and  then  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  her 
eager  face,  "we  are  going,  I  think,  through  the  mine." 

"Bobby!"  with  supreme  disgust. 

"To  what  is  known,"  continued  Travers,  relenting, 
"as  the  'Grotto  of  the  Queen,'  which  lies  just  beyond 
'Old  Druid  Hall.'  " 

"Oh,"  and  she  sighed  happily,   "that  sounds   de- 


THE   DAYSMAN  219 

lightfully  mysterious.    Please  tell  me  all  about  it." 

"I  commend  you  to  Wood  for  particulars,"  and 
Travers  laughed  mischievously  as  that  gentleman  came 
up  to  assign  him  to  his  seat. 

"He  says  you  will  answer  all  my  questions,"  smiled 
the  girl,  as  Richard  Wood  put  her  into  the  car  and 
himself  took  the  vacant  place  which  he  had  reserved 
beside  her. 

"Have  you  been  trying  to  coerce  Mr.  Travers  into 
breaking  faith  with  me?"  and  she  caught  the  flash  of 
laughter  in  his  eyes. 

"I'm  afraid  I  did  subject  him  to  rather  a  strong 
temptation,"  she  confessed,  with  a  pretty  little  moue  of 
contrition,  "and  the  reason  he  refused  to  yield,  I  think, 
is  only  because  this  is  your  surprise." 

"But  all  the  credit  for  the  idea,  as  well  as  the  clev- 
erness with  which  it  has  been  carried  out,  belong  to 
Mr.  Travers,"  he  replied  quickly. 

"And  your  part?"  she  smiled  archly. 

"My  part  was  merely  to  hope  that  we  might  suc- 
ceed in  pleasing  you,"  he  responded  simply. 

"You  have  never  failed  of  that,"  she  rejoined,  with 
shining  eyes,  and  then  more  gravely,  "I  feel  as  though 
I  were  making  a  pilgrimage  to  some  shrine — I 
wonder" and  her  voice  vibrated  with  the  suppres- 
sed emotion  of  an  intense  nature,  "I  wonder  why  this 
mine  should  seem  to  me  so  instinct  with  personality!" 

"Through  its  workings,  no  doubt,  as  an  index,  you 
read  the  hopes  of  many  men,"  he  suggested,  quietly. 

"How  well  you  understand!"  her  voice  was  one 
eager  exclamation,  "but  a  woman's  reasoning  is  less  in- 


220  THE   DAYSMAN 

elusive.  There  is  only  room  in  my  mind,  I  fear,  for 
three  of  these  men — the  ones  I  have  known — my  father, 
and  Jack — and — you." 

"It  is  kind  to  give  me  some  room  in  your  mind  while 
I  wait  for  my  place  in  your  heart." 

"Won't  you  keep  to  the  subject  of  mining?"  there 
was  a  pleading  note  in  her  voice  and  her  eyes  seemed 
almost  afraid. 

"Elizabeth,"  again  she  felt  herself  possessed,  and 
carried  along  in  the  current  of  a  passion  that  seemed 
strangely  allied  to  inspiration,  "Elizabeth,  you  know 
that  I  must  not  let  you  tell  me  good-bye." 

"Please,"  but  the  words  sounded  faintly  even  to  her 
ears.  She  knew  that  he  almost  had  her  at  bay,  and 
then,  the  car  stopped  with  a  sudden  jerk.  The  final 
solitude  a  deux  was  over,  and  the  last  precious  moments 
of  an  intermittent  conversation  had  left  Elizabeth 
Treverin  marveling  at  her  own  reluctance  to  tell  this 
man  good-bye. 

"Here  we  are,  at  last,"  shouted  Travers  with  the 
assumed  nonchalance  of  the  master  of  ceremonies,  who 
is  just  on  the  point  of  springing  a  sensation. 

"You  are  about  to  enter,"  continued  Travers,  adopt- 
ing the  stentorian  tones  of  a  professional  cicerone, 
"what  is  known  as  Druid  Hall.  Observe  the  round- 
ness of  these  wooden  pillars  and  remember  that  this 
feature  is  unusual,  as  the  heavy  timbering  of  a  mine  is 
nearly  always  squared.  About  two  feet  in  diameter, 
with  cap  and  sills,  above  and  below,  these  beautiful 
specimens  of  over-grown  stump  are  supposed  to  be 
suggestive  of  those  natural  temples  of  early  Britain 


THE   DAYSMAN  221 

with  which  you  are  all  more  or  less  familiar — if  not  in 
nature  (above  ground)  let  us  hope,  at  least,  through 
the  art  of  that  jolly  opera,  'Norma.'  " 

"This  hall  is  one  man's  idea  of  how  to  build  a  mine, 
and  because  of  its  warmth  and  freedom  from  damp  or 
fumes;  because,  in  other  words,  of  its  extreme  'dry- 
ness,'  we  have  selected  this  portion  of  the  property 
as  a  site  for  'my  lady's  bower,'  and  Travers  swept 
aside  with  a  flourish  the  heavy  draperies  which  cur- 
tained off  a  remote  corner  of  the  vaulted  cavern. 

Here  soft  rugs,  long  mirrors,  a  huge  divan  and  well- 
furnished  dressing-table  suggested  the  impromptu  com- 
forts of  a  dainty  boudoir,  where  palms  vied  with  holly 
and  mistletoe  in  creating  an  air  of  Christmas. 

There  was  a  chorus  of  delighted  oh's  from  the  ladies 
and  surprised  exclamations  from  the  men,  in  the  midst 
of  which  Travers  cried,  in  a  stage  whisper  behind  his 
hand,  "Dinner  gowns  not  being  de  rigueur,  ladies,  in 
just  ten  minutes  we'll  return  to  take  you  in." 

"And  now,  mes  comrades,  exit  all,  for  we  dine,  you 
know,  toward  the  seventh  hour  in  the  Grotto  of  the 
Queen." 

"Three  cheers  for  Bobby!"  called  some  girlish  voice, 
and  an  echo  carried  the  words  along  to  the  rapidly 
vanishing  group  of  men. 

"Mais  non,  ma  belle,"  came  the  answering  shout  of 
Travers,  and  each  word  was  clear.  "Vivat,  Richard  of 
the  Lion  Heart.  Vive  le  bonhomme — Coeur  de  Lion." 

Without  a  moment's  hesitation  every  man,  except- 
ing Wood  himself,  had  caught  up  the  refrain,  which 
went  rolling  down  the  long  corridors  with  a  cumula- 


222  THE   DAYSMAN 

tive  sonority  of  swelling  sound  until  finally  its  deep 
reverberations  died  away  and  were  lost  in  the  remotest 
crevice  of  some  far-away  nook.  And  then,  in  a  flashing 
second,  with  the  delicate  lightness  of  a  silvery  over- 
tone, there  floated  through  the  quivering  silence,  an 
answering  echo,  a  "vive  le  roi,"  which  had  its  begin- 
ning in  Druid  Hall. 

No  one  seemed  able  afterward  to  remember  just  who 
was  responsible  for  the  happy  thought  of  a  pretty  little 
tribute  to  their  host,  but  somebody  quoted  softly,  as 
she  absently  straightened  her  hair: 

"A  prince  he  was — of  the  people, 
A  king  who  ruled  among  men." 


THE   DAYSMAN  223 


CHAPTER   XX. 

"And  o'er  them  many  a  sliding  star, 

And  many  a  merry  wind  was  borne, 
And,  stream'd  thro'  many  a  golden  bar, 
The  twilight  melted  into  morn. 

And  o'er  them  many  a  flowing  range 
Of  vapor  buoy'd  the  crescent-bark, 

And,  rapt  thro'  many  a  rosy  change, 
The  twilight  died  into  the  dark." 

THE  Grotto  of  the  Queen  was  one  of  those  beautiful 
natural  caves  which  are  to  be  found,  sometimes,  in  the 
heart  of  a  mine. 

Hollowed  out  of  the  lime  (where  copper  carbonates 
are  mostly  discovered)  its  walls  bore  exquisite  incrusta- 
tions of  malachite  and  azurite,  while  stalactitic  col- 
umns of  colorless  calcite  appeared  almost  to  support  the 
lofty  dome  of  its  vaulted  roof. 

It  was  Travers  who  suggested  the  possible  transfor- 
mation of  this  underground  retreat  into  a  modern  ban- 
queting hall,  for  Travers  belonged  to  a  generation 
whose  imagination  dared  much  in  its  restless  seeking 
for  some  new  thing. 

"What  a  delightfully  stunning  thought!"  "Strik- 
ingly original  idea!"  and  "The  last  word  in  novelty!" 
were  exclamations  that  went  around  the  table,  as  the 


224  THE   DAYSMAN 

guests  of  Richard  Wood  were  seated  at  a  dinner  which 
appeared  remarkable,  "only,"  as  Mrs.  Winston  ex- 
pressed it,  "when  one  realized  the  fact  that  one  was 
being  served  so  many  thousand  feet  below  the  surface. ' ' 

"Long  ago,  or,  rather,  when  I  first  met  you,"  said 
Elizabeth  Treverin,  turning  to  Wood,  "I  accused  you 
of  practicing  the  black  art,  and  really,  my  friend,  you'll 
have  to  admit  that  this  is  magic." 

She  looked  about  her  curiously.  The  dazzling  effect 
of  crystal  walls,  which  reflected  the  lights  of  scores 
of  flickering  candles,  was  relieved  by  the  tropical  lux- 
uriance of  the  floral  decorations.  Green  vines  were 
festooned  about  glittering  pillars  from  which  they 
drooped  to  trail — a  delicate  tracery  of  consummate 
grace — across  the  cool  hardness  of  a  rough  stone  floor, 
whereon  hemlock  bows  had  been  thickly  strewn  to 
break  the  sounding  echoes  of  such  unwary  footfalls  as 
might  escape  the  silencing  hush  of  scattered  rugs.  A 
heavy  curtain  of  pine  and  spruce  screened  off  at  the 
far  end  of  the  grotto  a  small  inner  recess  where,  ac- 
cording to  Travers,  there  might  have  been  found  the 
necessary  furnishings  of  a  modern  if  temporary  kitchen, 
which  boasted  the  first  electrical  cooking  apparatus 
that  had  been  imported  into  the  Territory. 

At  the  opposite  end  of  the  cave  was  the  wide  open- 
ing of  that  magnificent  approach  through  which  Rich- 
ard Wood's  guests  had  just  been  brought,  from  Druid 
Hall,  to  this  fairyland  beyond.  There  was  an  utter 
absence  of  timbering  in  this  long,  wide  anteroom,  where 
(as  the  ores  had  been  taken  out  huge  pillars  were  left 
to  support  the  workings  overhead),  as  the  eye  traveled 


THE   DAYSMAN  225 

through  the  long  vista  of  a  wide  collonnade  it  noted 
the  rich  coloring  of  native  copper  that  projected  from 
the  rough-hewn  stone,  tinging  huge  columns  and  mas- 
sive arches  with  a  touch  of  splendor  that  was  almost 
Romanesque. 

"I  had  thought,"  began  the  girl,  smiling,  as  her 
eyes  came  back  to  the  face  of  Richard  Wood,  after  a 
brief  but  thorough  survey  of  the  details  of  her  sur- 
roundings, "I  had  almost  thought  that  I  knew  a  little 
about  this  mine. 

"Because  you  have  been  good  enough  to  answer  my 
questions  I  began  to  imagine  that  I  realized  something 
of  its  significance  as  a  producer,  of  its  place  in  the  past, 
of  its  promise  for  the  future.  I  was  prepared,  I  be- 
lieve, to  expect  much."  Again  that  swift  glance,  with 
its  comprehensive  appreciation  of  a  scene  whose  weird 
beauty  created  a  fanciful  charm  that  seemed  almost  too 
unreal.  "I  was  prepared  to  expect  much;  but  for 
nothing,  I  think,  like  this." 

"I  am  glad,"  and  there  was  a  thrilling  note  of 
pleasure  in  his  voice,  "that  you  like  it." 

' '  Like  it  ? "  her  eyes  shone,  and  her  breath  came  fast  ; 
she  seemed  moved  tonight,  by  forces  outside  of  her- 
self, by  a  power  beyond  her  experience,  that  gave  to 
each  trivial  word  and  act  the  buoyant  significance  of 
some  divine  afflatus.  "Like  it?  I  did  not  dream  that 
there  could  be  such  infinite  variety  in  one  mine!" 

Her  enthusiasm  affected  him  strangely.  Well  modu- 
lated, but  rich  and  full,  it  was  capable  of  the  same 
fine  nuances  that  distinguished  her  dear  voice.  What 
a  vivid  little  zealot  she  might  be!  What  an  ardent 


226  THE   DAYSMAN 

champion  of  a  cause — in  spite  of  her  immense  capacity 
for  reserve.  The  real  woman  was  a  paradox,  but  it 
was  the  real  woman  that  he  loved. 

' '  And  I  did  not  dream, ' '  he  leaned  toward  her  slight- 
ly. His  tone  was  meant  for  her  ear  alone,  but  his  words, 
a  gentle  mockery  of  her  own,  maintained  for  them  both 
the  conventional  pose,  "I  did  not  dream,  you  know, 
that  there  could  be  such  infinite  variety  in  one  woman." 

Just  then  her  right-hand  neighbor  claimed  her  at- 
tention, and  Richard  Wood  remembered  the  lady  at  his 
left.  It  seemed  a  very  long  time  before  she  turned  to 
him  again,  and  when  she  did  so,  at  length,  it  was  to 
ask  a  question. 

"Mr.  Van  Horn  has  just  been  telling  me  that  Bobby 
says  you  are  going  to  allow  us  to  go  through  some  of 
the  earliest  workings  of  the  mine.  Have  you  really 
given  your  consent  at  last?" 

"We  may  try  it,"  he  replied,  briefly,  "after  dinner, 
if  there  is  time."  And  then  he  added  with  deliberate 
gravity,  "ever  since  you  told  me  that  you  would  like 
it  I  have  wanted,  myself,  to  take  you  through — Queen 
Elizabeth." 

His  identification  of  herself  with  the  mine  was  un- 
mistakable. It  amounted  almost  to  personification,  and 
not  daring  to  meet  his  eyes,  she  became  suddenly  pre- 
occupied with  the  contents  of  her  plate. 

"It  was  good  of  you,"  she  murmured,  finally,  "to 
save  it  for  the  last."  She  waited  a  moment  and  then 
went  on  slowly,  almost  tentatively,  "I  have  wanted  to 
thank  you  for  making  it  all  so  beautiful — for  me.  Per- 
sonally, as  you  know,  the  history  of  this  mine  means 


THE   DAYSMAN  227 

much  to  Jack  and — to  me.  We  have  come  to  re- 
gard it,  I  think,  as  the  crowning  hope  of  our  father  *s 
life,  and  I  am  glad,"  she  was  speaking  more  rapidly 
now,  as  one  who  has  a  confession  to  make,  as  one  who 
is  afraid  that  she  cannot  get  it  over,  "there  may  not 
be  another  opportunity  to  tell  you,  just  how  glad  I  am 
that  you  have  so  intimately  connected  my  father's 
work  with  yours. 

"You  see,"  she  looked  again  into  his  face,  and  this 
time  her  eyes  met  his  own  bravely,  unflinchingly,  while 
through  them  he  read  her  to  her  very  soul,  "you  see 
that  I  am  no  longer  trying  to  dodge  the  issue,  but — I 
think — that  I  am  hardly  yet  sure  enough  of — myself — 
to  refuse  to  tell  you  good-bye." 

"Couldn't  we  rely  upon  my  faith  in  possibilities, 
Queen  Elizabeth?"  his  voice  was  passionately  low  and 
intense. 

"If  only  it  were  a  question  of  your  judgment  about 
a  mine!  I  have  boundless  faith  in  that.11  In  her  eyes 
was  the  remotest  suggestion  of  unshed  tears,  but  the 
humorous  irony  of  a  sorrowful  little  smile  still  played 
about  the  corners  of  her  mouth. 

"How  can  I  make  you  understand?"  her  voice  was 
hopeless,  almost  despairing.  "Don't  you  know  that 
even  if  there  were,  by  chance,  what  you  mining  men 
describe  as  an  'attractive  proposition,'  it  doesn't  neces- 
sarily follow  that  it  would  be  worth  developing." 

There  was  a  possessive  tenderness  in  his  laugh  that 
made  it  almost  a  carress,  as  he  said. 

"You  forget  that  there  is  a  test;  that  it  is  possible 
to  determine  with  absolute  certainty  the  proportionate 


228  THE   DAYSMAN 

value  of  a  precious  metal  by  an  assay  of  the  ore.  I 
have  found — I  have  found — but  on  the  whole — I  shall 
not  tell  you,  now,  what  a  fabulous  percentage  of  gold  T 
have  discovered  in  Queen  Elizabeth." 

"Aren't  we  mixing  our  metaphors  or  is  it  only  our 
metals?"  she  asked  lightly  as  the  talk  at  their  end  of 
the  table  drifted  into  a  general  discussion  of  the  origi- 
nality that  had  been  displayed  in  the  selection  of  the 
souvenirs,  diminutive  copper  ingots,  engraved  with  the 
date  and  the  name  of  the  person  "for  whom  this  metal 
was  mined,"  which  had  been  converted  into  a  variety 
of  dainty  knickknacks  that  appealed  to  the  men  not  less 
strongly  than  to  the  women  guests. 

A  moment  later,  Mrs.  Winston,  that  able  patroness 
and  dispenser  of  Wood's  hospitality,  who  had  won  the 
playful  nickname  of  "hostess  pro  tern,'1  rose  and  the 
ladies  were  conducted,  once  more,  through  the  stately 
colonades  of  the  anteroom  (in  whose  remote  shadows 
the  musicians  were  concealed)  to  a  new  retreat  which 
the  resourceful  Travers  described  as  the  drawing-room 
"corner"  of  Druid  Hall. 

"Here,"  explained  that  gentleman,  blandly,  "we 
shall  leave  you  to  a  lively  discussion  of  the  latest  cop- 
per gossip,  and  presently,"  he  added  as  a  parting 
shot,  "as  many  as  want  to  may  'do'  the  mine — as  much 
of  it,  that  is,  as  the  necessity  of  catching  a  midnight 
train  will  permit." 

Five  minutes  later,  in  the  "dining-room,"  Travers 
removed  his  cigar  and  tore  open  a  telegram  that  had 
been  put  into  his  hand. 


THE   DAYSMAN  229 

"Pardon  me,  Wood — gentlemen" — and  then,  after  a 
hasty  glance  at  the  yellow  slip,  and  a  "no  answer"  to 
the  waiting  servant,  he  added  quickly,  addressing  his 
host,  "A  message  from  Jack  Treverin,  and — what  do 
you  say  to  my  reading  it  aloud?" 

Richard  Wood's  nod  expressed  full  approval,  and 
there  was  a  general  cry  of  "go  ahead." 

"Here  goes,  then!"  cried  Travers  impulsively, 
springing  to  his  feet.  "It's  a  personal  message,  in 
answer  to  my  note,  but  I  like  the  tenor  of  the  man's 
regrets."  After  which  brief  explanation,  he  read: 
"Letter  received.  Sorry  I  can't  be  with  you.  Splen- 
did idea.  Merry  Christmas  and  a  toast  to  Queen  Eliza- 
beth." 

"A  toast!"  exclaimed  Travers,  enthusiastically,  rais- 
his  glass,  "the  first  toast  of  the  evening;  the  last  toast 
of  the  day— To  Queen  Elizabeth!" 

"The  lady  or  the  mine?"  demanded  the  daring 
voice  of  some  youthful  adorer,  whose  zeal  had  outrun 
his  discretion. 

In  a  moment  all  was  confusion,  and  above  the  wild 
clamor  of  each  frantic  effort  to  be  heard  such  phrases 
went  flying  from  mouth  to  mouth  as  "the  lady,"  "the 
mine,"  "either,"  "both,"  for  few  of  the  men  present 
realized  any  special  significance  in  the  name. 

Travers,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  completely  at 
a  loss,  stood  for  a  second,  irresolute,  angry,  devoutly 
wishing  that  he  might  have  bitten  out  his  tongue  before 
it  had  uttered  the  fatal  words,  and  muttering  savagely 
through  his  teeth  something  about  fools  rushing  in 
where  angels  won't  intrude. 


230  THE   DAYSMAN 

An  instant  later  the  tumult  ceased,  for  Richard 
Wood  was  on  his  feet.  In  the  midst  of  the  pause — a 
breathless  hush — his  level  glance  sought  and  held  the 
angry  eyes  of  Travers,  and,  when  he  spoke  out  of  the 
profound  silence,  his  grave  voice  sounded  almost  stern. 

"I  should  like/'  he  said  with  slow  emphasis  upon 
every  word,  "to  respond  to  the  toast  as  Mr.  Travers 
gave  it. 

"Queen  Elizabeth,  gentlemen!"  and  he  raised  his 
glass  on  high. 

"Vive  la  reine!"  As  their  eyes  met  the  lips  of 
Travers  formed  the  phrase  without  uttering  a  sound 
and  when  solemnly,  almost  reverently,  the  toast  had  at 
last  been  drunk,  there  was  a  quick  shiver  of  crystal  as 
the  host's  glass  reached  the  floor,  and  the  ring  of  an 
answering  crash  as  that  of  Travers  followed. 

Swifter  than  thought  the  other  men  responded  to 
their  lead,  and  with  a  dramatic  finale  of  dashing  and 
noise,  the  tension  at  length  snapped. 

It  was  over,  and  Richard  Wood  proposed  their  ad- 
journment to  Druid  Hall.  No  one  but  Travers  quite 
understood,  and  Travers  it  was  who  grasped  his  hand 
as  the  two  men  passed  in  the  anteroom  before  they 
joined  the  ladies. 

They  were  alone  together — the  man  and  the  woman. 
Far  below  the  surface  of  the  world,  deep  in  the  heart 
of  the  earth,  away  beyond  the  problems  of  the  universe, 
the  man  and  the  woman — alone. 

The  others  had  gone  on  with  the  Baron,  but  Richard 
Wood,  in  the  midst  of  a  thrilling  story  that  was  vividly 


THE   DAYSMAN  231 

reminiscent  of  her  father,  had  paused  for  a  moment 
tc  illustrate  a  point,  and  thus  it  happened  that  these 
two  had  lingered  in  the  remotest  corner  of  a  very  old 
section  of  the  mine. 

She  hung  upon  his  every  word.  Was  it  only  that 
she  was  loth  to  lose  one  single  item  of  a  glowing  inci- 
dent? "Would  there  be  for  the  man  and  not  for  her  a 
lingering  pain  in  farewell? 

His  narrative  was  almost  concluded,  and  then,  they 
would  have  to  move  on.  Lost  in  the  absorbing  beauty 
of  her  face,  he  prolonged  almost  mechanically  each 
closing  sentence,  hoping  and  yet  dreading  his  final  part- 
ing with  her  eyes. 

Through  those  eyes  alone  he  had  first  come  to  know 
this  woman,  and  in  their  unfathomed  depths  he  had 
found  his  prophetic  promise  of  that  lofty  mystery  of 
passion  which  reaches  its  highest  fulfillment  through 
absolute  union  with  spirit  through  perfect  marriage 
with  mind.  With  the  adorable  lips,  as  guardians  of 
sense,  he  had  not  ventured,  even  in  thought,  the  inti- 
macy of  contact,  but  he  waited  for  the  eyes,  as  senti- 
nels of  her  soul,  to  speak  him  his  last  good-bye;  and 
he  had  not  waited  long  when  the  wheel  of  Destiny 
turned. 

The  girl,  who  had  been  watching  his  face  intently, 
saw  it  grow  suddenly  very  grave.  His  glance  traveled 
swiftly  about  (with  the  look  of  a  man  in  a  trap)  then 
came  back  with  a  shock  to  her  face,  and  when,  at  last, 
he  spoke  his  voice  sounded  hoarse  and  unnatural. 

"Do  you  see  that  ladder?"  he  demanded  quickly, 
nodding  in  the  direction  of  a  dim,  far  corner  where 


232  THE   DAYSMAN 

some  shadowy  object  seemed  to  dangle  unsteadily  from 
the  rotting  timbers  of  the  roof. 

"Yes,"  she  replied  in  a  startled  tone,  but  even  the 
sound  of  her  own  voice  seemed  to  come  from  far  away, 
and  then  all  at  once  she  realized  that  something  had 
happened,  that  some  danger  must  be  close  upon  them, 
that  it  was  coming  very  swiftly,  with  a  mighty  rush 
and  a  roar.  She  knew  that  it  was  some  peril  which  she 
did  not  comprehend,  some  horror  at  which  she  only 
guessed,  and  she  knew  it  from  his  face. 

She  read  in  that  face  his  fear  for  her  life,  a  passion 
of  love  and  pain,  and  in  the  supreme  travail  of  the 
moment  she  knew  that  her  own  love  was  born. 

She  was  his  for  life;  she  was  his  in  death  and — he? 
Facing  death — he — was  hers.  There  was  no  other  fact 
worth  recognizing,  and,  as  it  swept  over  her  with  a 
mighty  rush  of  joy,  she  smiled  suddenly  into  his  eyes. 

Like  the  glory  of  a  summer  dawn  his  answer  came 
to  him  as  he  had  hoped  that  it  might  come,  but  the 
fulness  of  its  meaning  was  lost  upon  him  then.  Days 
later  he  understood — days  later,  when  she  had  gone. 

Swiftly,  desperately  he  was  thinking — dispassionate- 
ly, coolly  planning  how  he  might  save  her  life. 

"Come!"  he  commanded,  at  last,  and  while  his  voice 
carried  a  sharp  note  of  decision,  she  detected  in  it  also 
a  shade  of  forced  gayety  which  told  her  that  he  was 
still  hoping  to  keep  her  in  ignorance  of  their  danger. 

"We  are  going  up  that  ladder  over  yonder."  He 
talked  rapidly  as  he  led  the  way,  with  the  deliberate 
haste  of  a  man  who  calculates  time  in  seconds. 

"It's  high  and  a  trifle  shaky,"  the  calmness  of  his 


THE    DAYSMAN  233 

comments  made  them  almost  weird,  "but  I'm  going  to 
hold  it,  to  keep  it  firm.  You  are  to  take  the  first  round 
with  your  foot,  the  third  with  your  hands,  and  after 
that  you  must  climb. 

"Ah,  you  understand,"  as  she  put  her  foot  into  his 
waiting  hand,  "good!  It  was  almost  as  easy  as  getting 
into  a  saddle,  wasn't  it?"  He  was  talking  quite  natu- 
rally— against  time — in  a  brave  effort  to  give  her 
courage. 

"But  it  wobbles  frightfully,"  she  cried  in  tremulous 
uncertainty,  as  she  lost  the  final  grip  of  his  helping 
hand. 

"I  know,  little  girl,  but  it's  safe,  sweetheart,  and  re- 
member, you  've  got  to  climb. ' '  The  anxiety  in  his  voice 
did  not  escape  her  quick  ear  any  more  than  did  its  firm 
tenderness,  but  there  was  something  almost  tragic  in 
this,  his  first  use  of  an  endearing  term,  a  note  that 
might  have  alarmed  her  had  she  detected  it  in  time — 
thrilling,  as  it  did,  so  perilously  close  to  the  sounding 
chord  of  a  possible,  final  farewell. 

"I  will,"  she  replied  with  a  desperate  determination 
to  do  as  he  directed,  and  then,  steadily,  swiftly,  she  be- 
gan to  make  the  ascent  while  the  sickening  sensation 
of  being  swung  far  out  into  space  made  her  head  swim 
dizzily. 

She  had  gotten  half-way  up  when  it  occurred  to  her 
that  he  was  not  following  and  she  remembered  in  a 
flash  how  he  had  said  that  he  must  hold  the  ladder. 
Was  he  there,  at  the  bottom,  still,  making  things  safer 
for  her  and  quietly  risking  his  life? 


234  THE   DAYSMAN 

In  that  instant  of  apprehension  all  of  her  fear  was 
gone,  and  her  voice  as  it  came  down  to  him  out  of  the 
shadows  was  clear,  imperious  and  firm. 

"I  shall  go  no  farther;  in  fact,  I  am  coming  down, 
unless  you  will  start  at  once." 

"Elizabeth,"  he  implored  helplessly,  conscious  that 
he  was  at  the  mercy  of  her  will,  "there  may  be  so  lit- 
tle time,  so  much  less,  even,  than  I  fear." 

' '  At  once,  Rick,  I  am  waiting, ' '  and  he  knew  that  the 
woman  had  won. 

"Coming,"  he  answered  shortly,  and  in  less  than  a 
minute  he  had  reached  the  point  where  she  clung  un- 
steadily to  the  swaying  ladder;  in  a  moment  more  he 
was  clambering  with  her  the  rest  of  the  way,  while  the 
rush  and  roar  came  nearer,  and  they  heard  the  sharp 
crashing  of  heavy  timbers  followed  by  the  dull  thud 
of  falling  rock. 

"Oh,"  she  asked  breathlessly  as  she  was  half  lifted 
through  an  open  trap-door  above  their  heads  (which 
was  hastily  dropped  and  firmly  fastened  down  as  soon 
as  they  were  safely  landed  on  the  flooring  above), 
"what  terrible  thing  is  happening?" 

"One  flight  more.  Do  you  think  you  are  able  to 
take  it  ?  I  '11  explain  later, ' '  and  he  steadied  her  against 
his  arm  while  he  quickly  struck  a  match  and  peered 
through  the  darkness  for  the  foot  of  another  ladder. 

"The  lights  are  out  here,  the  wiring  comes  in  from 
below,  but  we'll  be  all  right  on  that  score  when  we 
reach  the  third  set  and  another  tunnel-level. 

"You're  safe  enough  now,  Queen  Elizabeth,"  he 
said  finally,  as  he  fairly  lifted  her  through  the  last  trap 


THE   DAYSMAN  235 

door  and  helped  her  to  her  feet,  and  she  felt  that  it 
was  true  from  his  short,  quick  laugh  of  relief.  "Why, 
dear  heart,  how  you  are  trembling ! ' ' 

He  had  drawn  her  hand  lightly  through  his  arm  in 
order  that  she  might  have  the  comfort  of  feeling  that 
she  was  not  alone  in  the  darkness,  but  had  been  too 
busily  occupied  in  finding  and  lighting  a  pocket  flash- 
lantern  to  give  her  any  further  attention.  Now,  how- 
ever, in  the  sudden  flare  of  light,  he  noticed  that  she 
was  extremely  pale,  and  he  felt  the  quick  reflection  of 
her  barely  suppressed  shudder. 

"But  I'm  better  now,"  she  answered  smiling,  "and 
quite  ready  to  go  on." 

"Were  you  very  much  afraid,  dear?"  and  he  laid 
his  hand  over  the  fingers  that  rested  on  his  arm  as  he 
might  have  reassured  a  frightened  child. 

' '  I  was  afraid, ' '  she  answered  gravely,  ' '  I  was  afraid 
— there — on — the  ladder  that  you  weren't  going  to 
come." 

The  downcast  eyes,  the  trembling  fingers,  the  quiver- 
ing lips — all  might  have  told  him  of  this  strange  new 
thing  that  had  come  to  him — all  breathed  the  precious 
secret  that  he  wanted  most  to  hear.  And  yet  by  some 
strange  irony  of  humorous  caprice  Richard  Wood  did 
not  know. 

"But  I  had  to  come,"  and  he  laughed  at  the  memory 
of  her  clever  ruse.  "You  put  me  in  a  trap  and  it  wasn't 
a  question  of  choice.  Could  I  have  let  you  wait  there 
longer?  Listen!  Do  you  hear?" 

And  then  suddenly  she  felt  as  though  the  world  were 
rocking  beneath  her  feet,  as  though  the  surrounding 


236  THE   DAYSMAN 

» 

earth  was  shuddering  about  her  ears  as  though  the  very 
foundations  of  the  universe  itself  had  broken  up  about 
them,  leaving  her  strangely  happy  and  somehow  very 
safe.  There  had  been  a  mighty  shock,  followed  by  a 
dull  rumble,  just  beneath  them,  and  then  something 
seemed  to  have  gone  beyond  them,  some  sweeping  vol- 
ume of  sound  that  had  passed  like  a  sharp  clap  of 
thunder,  leaving  long  reverberations  in  its  wake. 

He  told  then,  briefly,  that  he  could  only  guess  at  the 
cause  of  the  acident  without  in  any  sense  realizing  all 
its  details. 

It  might  have  originated  with  a  flood  of  water  that 
had  accumulated  during  the  heavy  rains  of  the  past  few 
days  in  an  abandoned  heading,  in  a  far-away  breast  of 
a  worked-out  drift  or  in  an  unguarded  pocket  of  some 
raise.  A  great  and  unaccustomed  pressure,  followed, 
perhaps,  by  the  sudden  breaking  of  a  wall — who  could 
tell?  And  then  again  the  accident  might  not  have  been 
caused  by  water  at  all,  but  may  have  had  its  beginning 
in  an  unlooked-for  "cave"  of  earth  and  rock,  or  that 
flood  of  sound  that  had  just  passed  so  suddenly  beneath 
them  may  have  been  water  and  earth  together — a  seeth- 
ing sea  of  mud. 

He  explained  to  her  how  the  softness  of  the  ores  in 
these  older  portions  of  the  mine  had  made  the  prob- 
lem of  timbering  a  serious  one,  that  because  of  this, 
as  well  as  of  a  gradual  creeping  of  the  mountain,  it 
had  been  frequently  necessary  to  bulkhead  the  open- 
ings in  order  to  keep  them  intact. 

Now  and  then,  where  the  rotting  timbers  were  not 
sedulously  guarded  and  frequently  renewed,  as  in  the 


THE    DAYSMAN  237 

abandoned  workings  of  a  very  old  mine,  the  caving  in 
of  the  ground  or  the  breaking  down  of  a  wall  did,  once 
in  a  while,  occur,  but  in  spite  of  these  threatening  cir- 
cumstances, by  the  exercise  of  exceeding  care,  no  great 
accidents  had  as  yet  taken  place. 

They  were,  for  instance,  at  this  moment,  he  told  her, 
in  the  second  "set"  of  an  old  stope  which  had  been,  by 
the  way,  worked  out,  not  less  than  thirteen  stories  high. 
Timbered  up  with  twelve  by  twelve  square  "sets"  there 
had  been  formed  in  the  stoped-out  ground,  she  was 
told  a  series  of  compartments  or  chambers  which  were 
built  in  the  working  out  of  an  ore  body  that  had  been 
over  three  hundred  feet  in  width,  at  this  point. 

"And  now,  no  doubt,"  he  continued  smiling,  "you 
want  to  ask  how  it  happened  that,  when  this  mighty 
flood  of  something  or  other  tore  its  way  through  the 
east  wall  of  that  chamber  beneath  and  rushed  out  at  an 
opening  in  the  west  wall  to  bury  itself  in  the  depths  of 
an  abandoned  shaft  beyond;  you  want  to  ask  how  it 
happened  that  these  upper  stories  didn't  cave  in,  too, 
and  why,  just  now,  we  are  safe.  Simply  because  pre- 
cautionary measures  have  been  taken  to  guard  against 
complete  disaster  anywhere.  This  platform,"  and  he 
tapped  the  flooring  on  which  they  stood,  "is  firmly 
anchored  to  the  walls  of  a  'set'  whose  beams  rest  secure- 
ly upon  a  separate  ledge  instead  of  being  built  up  from 
below,  and  so  this  water  or  earth  or  mud,  whichever  it 
happened  to  be,  having  another  outlet,  has  passed 
through  underneath  and  left  us  safe  in  our  retreat  be- 
yond the  power  of  disaster." 


238  THE   DAYSMAN 

"And  the  others,"  she  asked  fearfully,  "where  are 
they?" 

"They  were  sent  to  the  surface,  long  ago,  where,  you 
will  remember,  the  few  who  did  not  care  to  explore 
were  to  await  our  coming.  We  must  join  them  there 
at  once,  by  the  way,"  and  he  looked  at  his  watch. 
"Your  train  leaves  in  half  an  hour." 

"And  you?"  she  asked  unsteadily,  "aren't  you  com- 
ing with  us  a  little  way?" 

"I  intended  to,"  he  replied  regretfully,  "but  now 
I  shall  have  to  wait  and  look  into  this  accident.  We'll 
climb  this  other  ladder  to  the  third  set  where,  by  tun- 
nel, on  a  higher  level,  we  can  quickly  reach  the  hoist." 

"We  shall  have  to  hurry,"  he  said,  pausing  at  the 
foot  of  the  ladder,  "or  you  couldn't  make  your  train." 

"I  wish,"  she  began  reluctantly,  "I  wish  that  you 
were  coming,  too." 

"You  couldn't  wish  it  as  devoutly  as  I  do,"  he  re- 
plied jestingly.  "If  you  had,  you  know,  you  might 
have  stayed." 

"But  I  have  no  right  to  be  bothering  you  now,  or 
myself,  either,  for  that  matter,"  he  added  quickly,  with 
a  half  sigh.  "Duty  before  pleasure,  you  know,  and 
this  time,  luckily  for  me,  the  duty  includes  your  inter- 
ests— and  Jack's." 

"You  are  thinking  of  the  mine,"  she  said  gently. 

"I  am  thinking  of  the  train,"  he  replied  gravely, 

"the  train — and  good-bye — and  you.  After  that" 

he  paused  abruptly,  for  he  had  not  yet  allowed  himself 
to  consider  life  without  her. 

"  'After  that — the  deluge.'  "  she  quoted  softly. 

And  he  thought  that  she  referred  to  a  flood  in  a  mine ! 


THE    DAYSMAN  239 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

"And    o'er    the    hills,    and    far    away 

Beyond  their  utmost  purple  rim 
And  deep  into  the  dying  day 

The  happy  princess  followed  him." 

IT  was  the  bitterest  night  of  a  very  cold  winter,  and 
for  the  first  time  during  an  unusually  brilliant  season 
of  opera,  "Siegfried"  was  being  presented  in  New 
York. 

In  spite  of  the  weather,  however,  the  house  was 
crowded,  for  the  cast  was  exceptionally  good  and  the 
performance  promised  to  be  as  notable  a  one  as  had 
yet  been  given  during  a  regime  which  was  revealing  to 
the  most  blase  musical  public  in  the  world  new  powers 
and  possibilities  in  the  singing  of  "Wagner's  musical 
dramas. 

If  many  of  the  parterre  boxes  were,  as  usual,  empty, 
during  the  first  act,  in  one  of  them,  at  least,  every  chair 
was  occupied  long  before  the  completion  of  the  overture. 

"This,"  said  Robert  Travers,  glancing  over  as  much 
as  he  could  see  of  the  brilliant  "horse-shoe," — "this 
looks  lonesome." 

He  had  come  in  last,  with  haste,  and  after  greeting 
everybody  jovially  had  dropped  into  a  seat  behind  Mrs. 
Winston. 

"Yes,"  admitted   that  lady,   with   a  martyr's  sigh. 


240  THE   DAYSMAN 

"We  had  to  send  regrets  to  Mrs.  Van  Horn's  dinner. 
Elizabeth  never  misses  Ternino's  Brunhilde,  you  know." 

"But  why  not  have  waited,  for  the  last  act?"  de- 
manded Travers  with  a  wry  face. 

"There's  something  in  the  musical  atmosphere  that 
leads  up  to  it,  my  dear  Bobby,"  said  Mrs.  Winston, 
with  the  indifferent  shrug  of  one  who  is  quoting  an- 
other's thought. 

"You've  forgotten  the  sword  song  and  other  potent 
elements  of  inspiration — the  youthful  buoyancy  and 
ardent  eagerness  of  the  forest-boy — in  fact,  all  of  the 
alluring  charm  of  that  captivating  hero  who  makes  the 
last  act  possible." 

"Musical  atmosphere,  indeed,"  exclaimed  Travers, 
with  sarcasm,  "that  dragon  is  positively  the  most  ridic- 
ulous piece  of  machinery  that  was  ever  imposed  upon 
an  audience  outside  of  the  nursery.  Elizabeth,"  he 
asked,  leaning  toward  his  cousin  with  a  twinkle  in  his 
eye,  as  the  curtain  went  up,  "don't  you  think  that  this 
sort  of  thing  vulgarizes  art?" 

"Perhaps,"  she  replied  demurely,  "perhaps  you  pre- 
fer absolute  music,"  for  his  well-known  indifference  to 
the  entire  subject  was  a  standing  joke  in  their  set. 

"If  I'm  not  a  man  with  music  in  my  soul,"  he  re- 
joined mischievously,  "it's  probably  because  a  concord 
of  sweet  sounds  doesn't  often  come  my  way.  Who 
knows?  At  any  rate,  Wagner's  clashing  harmonies 
move  me  not  at  all.  They're  neither  music  nor  drama, 
merely  an  elaborate  embroidery  of  melody  over  old  po- 
etic ideas. 

"Besides,  ma  cousine,"  went  on  Travers  discursively, 


THE   DAYSMAN  241 

as  soon  as  he  had  gotten  fairly  astride  of  his  hobby, 
"don't  you  agree  with  the  man  who  said  that  'poems 
die  when  living  beings  get  into  them'?  I  do.  Witness 
yonder  rotund  Siegfried,  for  instance,  frisking  about 
the  stage!  Doesn't  he  mar,  p:  ,t  all  redemption,  any 
implied  idea  of  'love's  young  Jream'?" 

"Bobby,  you  are  almost  hopeless!"  cried  the  girl, 
laughing.  "But  I  do  agree  with  you,  a  little  bit,"  she 
added,  quickly,  "and  with  that  other  person,  whoever 
he  was,  who  said  that  'making  music  which  one  can  see 
is  a  death-blow  to  the  lofty  idealization  of  art. '  ' ' 

"You  think  vision  not  at  all  essential  to  the  artistic 
imagination,  I  suppose."  His  tone  was  quizzical. 

"It's  almost  a  drawback,  sometimes,"  she  confessed. 

"  'The  songs  that  should  swim  on  high,  like  swan 
cloud,  cleaving  skies  blue  and  inaccessable '  ought  to  be 
heard  with  one's  eyes  closed;  when  they  are  brought 
down  to  earth  as  hopelessly  as  that,"  and  she  nodded 
lightly  in  the  direction  of  the  stage. 

"Seeing  the  opera,  with  you,"  he  began  teasingly, 
"may  not  quite  be  a  liberal  education,  but  at  least  it's 
a  rather  unique  course  in  art." 

"I  consider  that  the  crudest  remark  you  ever  made," 
she  smiled  with  marked  displeasure,  but  her  laughing 
eyes  contradicted  the  statement. 

"And  I  meant  it  for  a  decided  compliment." 

"It  was  altogether  too  doubtful,  Bobby,  I  assure  you. 
'A  unique  course  in  art'  savors  rather  unpleasantly  of 
artlessness  or  artfulness,  but  I'll  forgive  the  faux  pas 
if  you'll  confess  what  you  honestly  think  of  Ternina 
in  this  the  most  difficult  of  all  the  Brunhildes." 


242  THE   DAYSMAN 

"Ternina  is  a  superb  actress,"  admitted  Travers, 
"which  can't  be  conceded  in  the  case  of  all  the  others, 
and  I  suppose  that's  a  gentle  hint  that  you  would  like 
me  to  listen  through  the  mighty  climaxes  of  the  last  act 
instead  of  talking." 

"How  well  you  understand  one,  Bobby,"  with  a  be- 
witching smile,  as  she  dropped  her  eyes  and  began  to 
follow  the  score. 

"  'Mum's  the  word,'  then,"  quoted  Travers,  folding 
his  arms  across  his  breast  and  assuming  a  rapt  expres- 
sion. "Just  watch  your  cousin  hold  his  peace." 

His  attitude  was  so  irresistibly  funny  that  it  sent  her 
into  a  gale  of  suppressed  merriment,  from  which  she 
had  scarcely  recovered  herself  when  the  act  was  over. 

"Please,  Bobby,  don't  spoil  the  last  scene  for  me," 
she  implored. 

"Not  I,  Queen  Bet — as  I  said  before,  je  suis  mum — 
tu  es  mum — by  Jove,"  he  exclaimed,  interrupting  him- 
self and  leaning  eagerly  forward  in  unaffected  aston- 
ishment, "it  is  he."  Then  turning  to  the  girl  suddenly, 
"Your  pardon,  Elizabeth,  for  interrupting  the  prepara- 
tory seance,  but  it's  quite  worth  while,  this  time.  Look, 
quickly,  the  lights  will  be  out  in  a  minute — in  the  back 
row  of  the  orchestra,  right  hand  side — aisle  seat — isn't 
that  Eichard  Wood?" 

"Where?"  she  asked  quickly,  and  as  she  raised  her 
glasses  she  was  aware  that  it  took  all  the  force  of  her 
will  to  prevent  a  telltale  trembling  of  her  hand. 

"Yes,"  she  rejoined  quietly,  and  although  she  was  in- 
wardly shaken  with  a  strange  excitement,  her  voice 


THE   DAYSMAN  243 

sounded  quite  calm  and  almost  cold,  "it  is,  really,  Mr. 
Wood." 

"I  wonder,"  said  Travers,  speculatively,  as  the  cur- 
tain rose,  "what  could  have  brought  him  across  the 
country  so  soon?  He  didn't  mention  coming  when  we 
left." 

"No,"  she  assented  quickly,"  he  didn't  mention  it." 

In  the  meantime,  Richard  Wood  was  enjoying  the 
drama.  He  had  never  thought  that  he  could  care  for 
opera  until  he  heard  Elizabeth  Treverin  say  that  she 
considered  Wagner's  portrayal  of  the  end-of-the-cen- 
tury  woman  almost  prophetic,  and  when  he  had  de- 
manded to  know  upon  which  of  the  heroines  she  based 
her  opinion  she  had  replied  "the  creation  of  Brunhilde 
alone,  shows,  I  think,  a  master's  profound  comprehen- 
sion of  the  contradictions  of  modern  womanhood." 

It  was  then  that  Richard  Wood  had  determined  to 
look  into  the  character  of  Brunhilde,  and  a  fortunate 
chance  had  brought  him  his  opportunity  tonight. 

He  had  little  technical  knowledge  of  music.  It  was 
rather  as  a  stimulus  of  poetic  ideas  that  it  made  to  him 
a  definite  appeal.  Grasping  as  it  did  the  essence  of  cer- 
tain emotional  states  of  the  human  soul,  and  portray- 
ing them  through  glowing  melodies  that  delight  the 
sense — music  seemed  to  him  the  most  poignantly  ex- 
pressive of  the  arts.  And  yet  Richard  Wood  was  per- 
fectly aware  that  the  exhilaration  of  the  moment  had 
not  come  to  him  through  the  medium  of  that  delicate 
interplay  of  primeval  human  passions  which  was  being 
enacted  on  the  stage. 

Beautiful  and  satisfying  as  was  the  interpretation  of 


244  THE   DAYSMAN 

the  part  of  the  heroine ;  rich  in  color  and  potent  in  mu- 
sical quality  as  was  the  voice  that  thrilled  and  vibrated 
with  the  intensity  and  steady  access  of  emotional  power, 
both  might  have  left  him  cold  and  unmoved — repelled, 
even,  as  he  was  by  the  tawdry  make-believe  of  the  scenic 
equipment  and  the  minor  details  of  the  ensemble. 

It  was  one  of  his  idiosyncrasies  to  dislike  the  theat- 
ricalization  of  love,  but  tonight,  strangely  enough,  he 
seemed  better  to  understand,  through  the  wonderful  im- 
personation of  the  goddess  woman,  the  character  of  the 
girl  he  loved.  He  received  an  impression  of  that  subtle 
mingling  of  nobility  with  tenderness,  of  impulsiveness 
with  restraint  which  made  the  regal  dignity  of  Eliza- 
beth and  the  wholesome  sweetness  of  Barbara  never 
wholly  separate  and  distinct.  Yes,  that  had  been  her  se- 
cret ;  she  walked  a  goddess,  enveloped  in  the  rosy  cloud 
of  her  ideals — apart  from  her  world  when  she  seemed 
most  in  it  and  of  it — separated  with  a  singular  detach- 
ment by  the  power  of  the  things  she  loved.  And  he? 
Who  was  he  that  he  should  dare  to  win  this  woman? 

If  marriage  were  the  destiny  of  the  immortal  maid, 
the  gods  had,  at  least,  granted  that  she  mate  with  a 
hero.  For  the  moment  he  felt  humbled,  almost  afraid. 
And  yet,  after  all,  was  not  the  supreme  test  of  the 
heroic  a  final  courageous  assumption  of  the  man's  power 
to  win  the  woman?  A  superb  primeval  strength,  the 
god-given  power  for  mastery? 

And  then  it  was  that  he  heard  the  first  strains  of  the 
great  love  music  of  the  awakening.  With  glorious 
abandon  the  marvelous  voice  seemed  to  fill  the  house — 
almost  the  world — with  the  exaltation  of  the  sentient 


THE   DAYSMAN  245 

moment,  and  its  last  poignant  appeal  for  the  separate- 
ness  of  woman's  individuality — that  individuality  which 
was  destined  from  the  beginning  to  find  its  highest  free- 
dom in  perfect  union. 

"Leave,  ah  leave — leave  me  unlost, 
Force  on  me  not  thy  fiery  nearness. 
Shiver  me  not  with  thy  shattering  will, 
And  lay  me  not  waste  in  thy  love." 

Ah,  that  was  the  meaning  of  the  look  that  he  had  de- 
tected, at  times,  in  Elizabeth  Treverin's  eyes.  She 
feared  him,  thank  Heaven,  she  feared  him  because  she 
knew  that  he  could  make  himself  master  of  her  destiny. 

As  soon  as  the  curtain  fell  Travers  signaled  that  he 
would  meet  him  in  the  lobby  from  which  they  made 
their  way  to  the  Fortieth  street  entrance,  where  they 
arrived  just  as  Mrs.  Winston's  carriage  was  being 
called. 

"I  must  see  you  alone,  tonight,  if  possible,  Queen 
Elizabeth,"  said  Eichard  Wood  in  an  undertone,  while 
Travers  was  looking  after  his  aunt. 

"Bobby,"  said  the  girl  quickly,  "go  on  to  Mrs.  A's 
with  Cousin  Cornelia  and  the  rest;  Mr.  Wood  wants  me 
to  drop  him  at  his  club." 

"By  all  means,"  responded  Travers  genially,  getting 
in  beside  his  aunt.  "Your  brougham  will  be  along  next, 
Elizabeth.  Au  revoir,  Wood,  see  you  tomorrow — aw- 
fully glad  you're  in  town!" 

"Thank  you,"  called  Wood.     "Good  evening,  Mrs. 


246  THE   DAYSMAN 

Winston,"  and  with  a  final  slamming  of  doors  they 
were  gone. 

On  the  way  up  town  Richard  Wood  explained  briefly 
that  he  had  arrived  only  that  afternoon,  had  called 
rather  late,  had  found  that  she  was  dining  out  with  Mrs. 
Winston,  and  that  they  were  going  very  early  to  the 
opera,  where,  as  she  saw,  he  had  followed. 

"Is — is  anything  wrong?"  she  asked  tentatively,  a 
trifle  nettled  by  his  evident  reluctance  to  explain  so  ur- 
gent a  desire  to  see  her. 

"I  hope,"  he  replied  earnestly,  "that  at  last  every- 
thing is  going  to  be  entirely  right.  I  wanted  time  to 
talk  to  you  as  soon  as  possible,"  he  added.  "Are  you 
booked  to  Mrs.  A's  tonight?" 

"I  told  Jenkins  'home',"  she  confessed  smiling, 
"and,"  she  added  quickly,  "here  we  are." 

"I'm  afraid,"  she  said  later,  as  she  led  the  way  into 
the  library — "I'm  afraid  that  grandfather  isn't  up,  and 
that  Jack  has  not  come  home. ' ' 

"And  I'm  afraid,"  he  said  softly,  as  he  smiled  down 
into  her  eyes,"  that  I'm  not  as  sorry  as  I  ought  to  be." 

She  had  thrown  off  her  wrap  and  was  standing  for  a 
moment  while  she  warmed  her  fingers  at  the  open  fire. 
The  gown  that  she  had  on  was  of  some  cloudy  diapha- 
nous material  which  seemed,  like  everything  else  that 
she  wore,  in  exquisite  harmony  with  his  ideas  of  her, 
and  yet  entirely  subordinated  to  the  enshrouding  mys- 
tery of  her  personality. 

Hitherto  he  had  been  absorbed,  lost  in  contemplation 
of  his  ideal  love,  but  tonight  it  was  the  real  woman  that 
gripped  his  heart.  Every  tone  of  her  dear  voice,  each 


THE   DAYSMAN  247 

little  individual  trick  of  expression,  had  its  special  note 
of  appeal.  Even  a  stray  lock  of  hair  that  had  almost 
crept  into  her  eyes  had  for  him  a  vital  charm,  and  he 
wished  with  every  fibre  in  his  being  that  he  might  try 
himself  to  put  it  straight. 

"I  have  come,  Elizabeth,"  he  went  on  slowly,  "I 
have  come,  sweetheart,  to  take  you  back  to  Arizona." 

"How  do  you  know,"  she  whispered,  avoiding  his 
eyes,  "how  do  you  know  that  I  am  ready  to  go?" 

"Because,"  he  said  firmly  as  he  imprisoned  her 
hands — "because  of  what  your  eyes  told  me,  Elizabeth, 
out  there — in  the  mine." 

As  there  flashed  through  her  suddenly  the  thrilling 
consciousness  of  that  look  she  trembled  slightly,  while 
her  head  drooped  lower  and  she  tried  to  withdraw  her 
fingers. 

"Elizabeth,  you  know  that  you  love  me — say  that  you 
love  me,  dear." 

She  raised  her  head  slowly  until  her  eyes  rested  with- 
in  the  level  of  his  own  vision,  and  in  one  flashing  mo- 
ment of  swift  apprehension  they  told  him  all  that  he 
wanted  to  know.  In  their  shadowy  depths  he  read  the 
veiled  mystery  of  her  love  and  its  subtle  sweet  allure. 

"When,"  she  breathed,  "tell  me,  when  you  found  it 
out." 

"I  think,"  he  said  slowly,  "I  think  it  was  only  four 
days  ago.  Before  that,  Elizabeth — my  dear,  my  dear — 
I  don't  like  to  think  of  before  that." 

"Poor  Kick,"  she  whispered  gently,  "poor  Rick." 

"Don't  you  imagine,"  he  asked  presently,  "don't 


248  THE   DAYSMAN 

you  imagine  that  you  might  tell  me  that  you  love  me  in 
still  another  way?" 

"Another  way?"  and  her  eyes  questioned  his. 

"I  have  begun  to  wonder,"  he  said  with  sudden  wild 
yearning,  as  he  read  the  look  in  her  eyes,  "how  you 
might  express  it — with  your  lips." 

"I — I  can  say —  if  you  want — that  I  love  you,  Rick." 

1 '  Could  you  say  it  to  my  lips,  sweetheart  ? ' ' 

"I  had  imagined,"  she  said  demurely,  "that  you 
would  be  strong  enough  to  wait  until — almost  until," 
and  her  eyes  laughed,  "you  had  taken  me  out  to  Ari- 
zona." 

"If  you  had  ever  known,"  he  began  irrelevantly,  "if 
you  had  ever  known,  Elizabeth,  what  the  thirst  of  the 

desert  means "  his  eyes  were  alight,  but  she  knew 

that  it  was  not  with  the  spent  fires  of  sombre  memories 
— "you  might  understand  how  a  man  feels  when  he 
first  finds  water. 

"The  thought  of  it  has  been  his  inspiration,  the  taste 
of  it  his  dream,  and  when,  at  last,  the  first  faint  whiff 
of  its  vital  fragrance  permeates  his  consciousness,  like 
the  sweet  breath  of  rain  upon  parching  ground,  all  his 
need  of  it  is  suddenly  concentrated  into  one  immense 
desire.  To  drink  in  the  sound  of  it,  through  his  ears, 
the  sight  of  it  with  his  eyes ;  to  feel,  through  every  nerve 
of  his  body,  in  every  fibre  of  his  being,  with  every 
sense  alert,  the  wonderful,  glorious  life  of  it  to  realize 
in  all  its  intensity  the  height  and  depth  of  a  mighty 
passion  that  finds  voice  in  the  one  great  cry: — "Give 
me  but  one  deep  draught  to  quench  my  thirst  for  thee ! ' ' 

He  waited  while  she — thrilled  by  the  miracle  of  this 


THE   DAYSMAN  249 

strange  new  eloquence  became  splendidly  aware  of  un- 
suspected vistas  in  an  undiscovered  country  (a  land  of 
wide  distances  and  far  horizons)  grew  exquisitely  con- 
scious that  the  supreme  moment  of  surrender  was  upon 
her  charged  with  a  promise  of  ecstacy  of  whose  vague 
possibilities  she  had  never  dreamed. 

Of  his  innate  capacity  for  that  bliss  of  the  emotion, 
that  poetic  rapture  of  feeling,  that  finest  flowering  of 
an  inherent  fiery  ardor  which  the  novelists  described  as 
passion,  he  had  given  her  rare  glimpses.  Could  she 
meet  his  ardent  spirit  with  the  large  generosity  of  an 
equally  fervent  love? 

"If  you  had  ever  known  anything  like  that,  my 
love,"  he  went  on  slowly,  "you  might  understand,  I 
think,  that  all  my  life  I  have  been  waiting." 

His  voice  had  dropped  to  an  appealing  minor  whose 
murmuring  cadences  touched  her  with  the  veiled  power 
of  an  intangible  caress  and  his  pleading  eyes  were  very 
near  her  own — so  near  that,  looking  full  into  them  be- 
came interconsciousness  so  deliciously  confounding  that 
— suddenly,  clingingly,  passionately,  she  gave  him  the 
love  of  her  lips. 

A  quivering  breath  commingled,  as  pulsations  of  soul 
had  blent,  and  the  fluttering  pulse-beat  of  spirit  met 
the  first  warm  heart-throb  of  sense. 


PART  II. 


"Is  there  any    daysman  betwixt  us  that  might  lay 
hand  upon  us  both?" 

— Job  9 :33. 


THE   DAYSMAN  253 


CHAPTER  I. 

"I  shot  an  arrow  into  the  air, 
It  fell  to  earth,  I  knew  not  where; 
For,  so  swiftly  it  flew,  the  sight 
Could  not  follow  it  in  its  flight." 

"ROCKLANDS, 

"DEAREST  JACK:  Not  an  April  fourth  has  dawned 
since  that  first  anniversary  after  the  April  fourth  that 
I  haven't  expected  you  to  forget,  and  yet  somehow  you 
always  happen  to  rememher.  How  do  you  do  it,  dear 
boy?  How  have  you  managed  to  preserve  so  many  of 
the  prettiest  sentiments  of  life  without  the  inspiration 
of  a  potent  personal  element? 

"There — you  see,  I'm  again  at  the  same  old  refrain 
of  'Cherchez  la  femme,'  but  whenever  I  look  at  your 
flowers,  dear,  they  make  me  wish  desperately  for  that 
big,  mighty  happiness  to  come  to  you  which  never  can 
come  until  you've  found  her,  Jack. 

"I  am  wondering  if  this  will  reach  you  in  New  York 
or  have  to  be  forwarded  to  Washington.  Rick  says 
you're  to  be  a  sort  of  Cerberus  at  the  Capital  this 
Spring,  and  when  I  asked  if  that  meant  laboring  with 
the  Congressional  halt  and  the  Senatorial  blind  he 
merely  laughed  and  replied  that  he  thought  your  forte 
was  rather  the  masterful  inaction  of  the  watchdog — too 
completely  oblivious  to  be  cognizant  of  such  political 
sops  as  are  being  offered.  I  suppose  that  means  throw- 


254  THE   DAYSMAN 

ing  sand  into  the  eyes  of  others  while  never  closing 
one's  own. 

"Wasn't  that  delightful?  Rick's  praise  is  so  splen- 
didly worth  while  that  I  love  to  repeat  it  even  though 
I  know  you're  smiling  at  me  for  'compromising'  my 
husband  by  an  utterance  of  mixed  metaphors,  which, 
we  both  know,  he's  quite  too  direct  to  have  used.  Nev- 
ertheless, I've  expressed  his  thought  and  he's  very  tol- 
erant of  my  gratuitous  interpretations. 

' '  From  your  letter,  I  see,  you  have  an  idea  that  we  're 
up  to  our  ears  in  Territorial  politics.  Allow  me  to  cor- 
rect that  very  wrong  impression,  Jack.  We're  simply 
submerged — it's  an  Anti- Joint-Statehood  convention, 
this  time,  and  out  here  we  call  it  patriotism,  not  politics 
— I  can  hear  you  laugh,  but,  au  sereux,  there's  a  dis- 
tinction not  without  a  difference,  mon  cher. 

"By  the  way,  Jack,  you'll  forgive  the  abrupt  change 
of  subject.  I  think  you  would  enjoy  the  Carrolls  if 
ever  you  have  time  to  look  them  up  when  you're  in 
Washington.  They  are  exceedingly  interesting — quite 
out  of  the  ordinary,  you  know. 

"The  Senator  (an  ex — ,  of  course)  is  really  one  of 
the  most  delightfully  cultivated  hosts  in  Washington. 
You've  heard  grandad  speak  of  him  often,  I'm  sure,  as 
'Harry  Carroll,' — one  of  father's  friends.  He  made  a 
splendid  record,  I  believe,  in  la  haute  finance  during 
the  'eighties,  but  retired  years  ago,  and  has  been  a  dilet- 
tante in  literature  and  a  connoisseur  in  art  ever  since. 

"His  wife  was  a  Virginia  Minturn,  and  he  himself 
belongs  to  a  collateral  branch  of  the  Carrolls  of  Car- 


THE   DAYSMAN  255 

rollton.  His  boyhood  (during  the  war)  was  spent  with 
maternal  grandparents  in  the  North,  and  from  them 
he  inherited  the  bulk  of  his  fortune. 

"Mrs.  Carroll  is  rather  eccentric,  or  pehaps  I  should 
say  erratic  along  certain  lines.  At  any  rate,  she  is  de- 
cidedly original,  and  her  husband  is  big  enough  and 
broad  enough  to  indulge  her  whims  and  vagaries. 

"She  goes  in  for  practical  philanthropy  and  modern 
impressionism — endows  schools  for  the  encouragement 
of  realism  in  art  and  gives  vegetarian  dinners.  Her 
guests  are  decidedly  amusing;  some  of  them  I  suspect 
of  being  only  temporary  converts  to  advanced  thought 
and  I'art  nouveau,  while  others  who  seem  possessed  of 
an  appreciative  eye  for  the  Senator's  rare  old  masters 
forgive  her  fancies,  and  still  others  who  have  a  taste 
for  his  famous  old  vintages  affect  a  mild  enthusiasm 
for  her  latest  fads. 

"They  have  a  niece,  Carroll  Minturn — a  delightful 
child  when  I  knew  her  at  the  school  of  Sreur  Madeleine, 
which  one  attended  in  one's  teens.  Carroll  was  much 
younger  than  I,  but  we  seemed  peculiarly  drawn  to  one 
another.  I  have  always  explained  it  from  the  fact  that 
we  were  both  'motherless  bairns.'  At  any  rate,  the 
Soeur — bless  her  heart — encouraged  the  intimacy,  and 
used  to  allow  the  child  as  a  'special  treat'  to  spend  a 
night  now  and  then  with  me. 

"She  was  only  ten — such  a  dear — and  I  remember 
how  she  used  to  curl  down  in  the  hollow  of  my  arm  and 
ask  for  'a  story,  please,  Elizabeth.'  'What  kind,  Car- 
roll dear?'  I  used  to  demand,  and  her  invariable  reply 
would  be,  'Oh,  anything — I  don't  care  much — but  if 


256  THE   DAYSMAN 

it's  a  fairy-tale  be  sure  you  have  the  prince  come  riding 
on  a  beautiful  charger,  Elizabeth' — and  I  always  did, 
because  she  had  a  passion  for  horses,  even  then. 

"I  haven't  seen  her  since  our  school-days;  we've 
never  been  in  Washington  or  any  place  else  at  the  same 
time,  but  I'm  told  she's  spending  the  winter  in  the 
Capital,  and  is  a  lovely  woman,  although  something  of 
a  6os  "bleu.  Her  father  is  our  Senator  Minturn — Ari- 
zona's stanch  friend — and,  by  the  way,  it  seems  that  he 
spent  a  number  of  years  out  here,  'knocking  about  the 
Territory'  before  he  went  into  politics  and  became  a 
'fighting  Senator  from  the  South.' 

"Do  look  them  up,  Jack,  and  remember  Senator  Car- 
roll's special  fad,  like  your  own,  is  a  penchant  for 
prints.  Some  of  his  Rembrandt  etchings  are,  I  think, 
presque  unique.  He  told  me  he'd  like  to  have  your 
opinion  of  an  exquisite  impression  of  the  famous  '  Three 
Trees,'  which  several  experts  have  pronounced  the  last 
proof  impression  of  the  first  state,  but  he  himself  is  in- 
clined to  think  it  an  after-state — possibly  the  very  first 
impression  after  proofs  between  which  and  the  last  of 
the  famous  'firsts,'  you  say,  'no  one  will  pretend  that 
there  is  any  perceptible  difference.'  I  know  you're  im- 
mensely interested,  by  this  time,  just  as  I  meant  you 
to  be,  so  au  revoir,  mon  frere,  and  be  sure  to  write  me 
what  you  think  of  Carroll. 

"Always  affectionately  your  sister, 

"BARBARA  WOOD." 

"WASHINGTON, 
"To  Mistress  Barbara,  Sweetest  of  Sisters,  Stanchest 


THE   DAYSMAN  257 

of  Latter-Day  Patriots,  and  Dearest  Devotee  at  the 
Shrine  of  Wood;  Greeting: 

"Thy  letter  hath  been  forwarded  to  me  here,  and  in 
accordance  with  thy  command,  0  Most  Excellent  Guard- 
ian of  thy  brother's  heart,  Most  Gentle  Arbitress  of  his 
destiny,  Most  Earnest  and  Tireless  Seeker  after  his 
soul's  mate!  In  accordance  with  thy  command,  0 
Matchless  Queen  of  Hearts,  John,  son  of  Treverin,  hath 
on  the  afternoon  of  this  16th  day  of  April  duly  deliv- 
ered his  credentials  at  the  house  of  Carroll  only  to  be 
informed  that  its  worthy  head — he  whom  thou  hast  ex- 
alted with  thy  praise,  was  not  at  home  and  that  his 
fearsome  spouse — the  serene  highness  of  vegetable  re- 
noun — had  likewise  departed. 

"As  for  the  lady  of  'the  charger' — but  it  were  well  to 
relate  the  tale  in  logical  sequence  and  order. 

"Sorely  grieved  at  having  been  thus  ruthlessly  de- 
prived of  an  opportunity  to  display  his  knowledge  and 
air  his  opinions  anent  the  authenticity  of  'Three  Trees,' 
thy  disconsolate  brother  thereupon  decided  to  while 
away  an  odd  half  hour  that  hung  heavily  upon  his 
hands  as  a  spectator  of  the  dignified  gambols  of  our 
Elder  Statesmen  who  disport  themselves  in  their  legis- 
lative stamping-ground  for  the  delectation  of  the  public 
and  incidentally  for  the  good  of  the  Nation. 

"In  other  words  and  every  day  vernacular,  he 
strolled  down  to  the  Capitol  and  dropped  in  at  the  Sen- 
ate Chamber. 

"And  there — evidently  one  of  a  party  chaperoned  by 
some  elderly  dame  who  was  holding  forth  in  the  mem- 
bers' gallery — thy  brother  beheld  the  lady  whose  fond- 


258  THE   DAYSMAN 

ness  for  noble  quadrupeds — in  other  words,  prancing 
chargers — thou  hast  already  proclaimed. 

"Unlike  the  usual  run  of  that  modern  curiosity 
hight  bos  bleu,  the  Lady  in  Brown  (for  that  I  sol- 
emnly assure  thee  was  the  dominant  color  scheme  of  the 
'confection'  or  'creation' — which  was  it? — that  she 
wore) ,  the  Lady  in  Brown  hath  about  her  a  certain  deli- 
cate feminine  charm,  a  subtle  air  of  that  womanliness 
which  is  not  always  associated  with  distinction,  and 
withal  a  face  in  whose  beautiful  repose  there  is  no 
touch  of  the  commonplace. 

"The  charming  pose  of  the  figure — just  a  trifle  bent 
forward,  with  one  gloved  hand  resting  lightly  upon 
the  rail  and  an  alluring  gleam  of  golden  hair  under  a 
large  hat,  made  a  picture  calculated  to  set  thy  brother's 
heart  to  stirring  in  the  regulation  way.  But  alas,  sister 
mine,  as  the  poet  hath  it,  'The  best  laid  plans  of  mice 
and  men  gang  aft  aglee.' 

"Know  then,  O  Gentle  Manipulator  in  futures,  that 
the  eyes  of  the  unattainable  One  were  fastened  upon 
the  peerless  Beverly,  that  brilliant  young  orator  who 
came  out  of  the  "West  to  dazzle  the  Nation  with  over- 
much rhetoric.  Thou  hast  heard,  perchance,  of  his  un- 
necessary indulgence  in  glowing  periods  and  burning 
apostrophes  on  the  subject  of  Joint  Statehood,  and  of 
the  fiery  eloquence  with  which  he  hath  managed  to  en- 
hance his  own  glory  while  emphasizing  the  insignifi- 
cance of  all  other  issues. 

"Hear,  then,  how,  in  spite  of  thy  well-known  advo- 
cacy of  the  theory  of  affinities,  thou  hast  been  already 
checkmated  by  Fate  and  a  Senatorial  knight  in  thy 


THE   DAYSMAN  259 

benevolent  but  most  patent  scheme  for  the  furtherance 
of  thy  brother's  happiness.  For  gossip  here  hath  it 
that  the  aforementioned  Lady  in  Brown  hath  'found 
in  favor  of  the  plaintiff,'  to  wit,  that  'Grand  Young 
Man'  in  whom  the  concentrated  wisdom  of  the  Republic 
now  finds  lodgment. 

"I  fear  me,  moreover,  that  the  report  hath  in  it 
some  truth,  for  thy  one-time  friend  strikes  thy  brother 
as  a  person  who  might  interest  herself  in  'such  a  son' 
for  no  better  reason  perhaps  than  the  fact  that  in  him 
she  could  detect  the  budding  promise  of  a  career. 

"Alack  a  day,  I  myself  have  known  what  it  was  to 
cherish  once  upon  a  time  fond  dreams  of  a  career. 
Such  is  the  estate  from  which  a  man  can  fall  to  become 
at  length  a  mere  keeper  of  the  bags. 

"Am  I  growing  cynical,  sister  mine?  Rather  am  I 
wondering  if  all  youthful  ideals  are  not  somewhat  in 
the  nature  of  that  'squab'  to  whom  his  enemies  have 
likened  this  interesting  statesman — 'bigger  at  birth 
than  at  any  other  time.' 

"Tell  Rick  that  I  shall  write  him  of  any  legislation 
of  importance  to  us,  but  the  complicated  game  of  politics 
seems  to  consist  just  at  present  in  setting  off  oratorical 
fireworks  which  elicit  now  and  then  a  ripple  of  applause 
that  confines  itself  to  the  galleries. 

"Ah,  I  had  forgotten.  You  will  be  asking  me  how 
I  know  that  she  was  Miss  Minturn.  You  see,  I  under- 
stand you  well  enough  to  anticipate  the  question.  It 
was  simple  enough.  I  happened  to  hear  her  addressed 
by  the  name  and  then,  later,  when  I  was  down  on  the 
floor,  I  accidentally  intercepted  a  mischievous  glance 


260  THE   DAYSMAN 

that  was  meant  for  the  picturesque  gentleman  whom 
she  afterwards  called  'father.'  Senator  Minturn 's  tall, 
spare  figure  and  ascetic  face,  by  the  way,  are  among 
the  finest  sights  in  the  Chamber. 

' '  This  letter  is  unconscionably  long  for  me.  Hope  it 
won't  wear  you  out  and  make  you  never  again  want  to 
hear  from, 

"Yours  devotedly, 

"JACK." 

"Tell  me,  Clarence,"  demanded  Miss  Minturn,  im- 
pulsively, "I  have  been  wanting  to  know,  since  Tues- 
day, who  that  man  is." 

"He's  the  grandson,"  began  Beverly,  with  the  air  of 
one  who  expects  his  announcement  to  create  a  decided 
impression,  "of  Robert  Freeman,  the  one  I  understand 
who  is  to  become  the  head  of  the  family  in  business — 
at  least  the  old  gentleman  has  made  it  plain,  they  say, 
that  such  a  result  will  follow  as  far  as  his  own  interests 
are  concerned." 

"But  who,  may  I  ask,  is  Tie?" 

Carroll  Minturn  was  conscious  that  her  lip  curled 
slightly  in  spite  of  a  strong  effort  to  conceal  the  fact 
with  a  smile.  It  seemed  to  her  one  of  the  most  striking 
proofs  of  inconsistency  in  human  nature  that  this  man 
— who  wrote  print  by  the  yard,  inveighing  against  the 
danger  of  allowing  "a  government  to  be  run  exclu- 
sively by  Croesus,"  who  professed  from  the  public  plat- 
form his  profound  contempt  for  a  purchased  public 
reputation,  should  be  himself  capable  of  attaching  so 
much  weight  to  a  name  which,  to  the  general  public,  at 


THE   DAYSMAN  261 

least,  was  chiefly  remarkable  for  its  association  with 
millions. 

"Surely,"  exclaimed  Beverly,  incredulously,  "you 
can't  be  serious!  In  spite  of  your  supreme  indifference 
tc  the  mere  claims  of  wealth  (as  an  open  sesame  to 
society,  for  instance)  even  you  must  be  aware  of  a  repu- 
tation in  financial  circles  like  that  of  Robert  Freeman 
— the  Robert  Freeman.  One  has  to  recognize  his  ma- 
terial supremacy,"  he  added  apologetically,  "as  surely 
as  one  must  acknowledge  the  existence  of  any  other 
earthly  potentate." 

Almost  unconsciously  he  was  excusing  himself  for  an 
inner  mental  attitude  that  had  invited  her  condemna- 
tion. She  was  far  from  ignorant  of  the  existence  of  his 
weakneses,  but  she  dreaded  these  glimpses  of  revela- 
tion. They  had  begun  to  assume  almost  a  sinister  sig- 
nificance like  the  shock  of  proofs  that  follow  upon  defi- 
nite suspicions. 

His  explanations  only  irritated  her  the  more  because 
they  argued  so  conclusively  that  her  worst  estimates 
had  been  just — he  always  fulfilled,  somehow,  her  lowest 
expectations  of  him. 

"You  have  mistaken,  I  think  (there  was  just  a  touch 
of  sharpness  in  her  tone),  my  views  upon  wealth. 
Riches,  I  think,  sometimes,  express  the  'genius  of  per- 
sonality'— its  gift  for  success  and  power — and  as  for 
money,"  she  paused  a  moment  for  just  the  right  ex- 
pression of  her  thought,  "I  regard  money  as  a  very 
convenient  servant,  although  I  shouldn't  at  all  want  it 
for  a  master." 


262  THE    DAYSMAN 

"It  has  come  to  be  almost  a  menace  in  Washington," 
he  put  in  quickly. 

"Please  don't,"  she  interrupted  smiling,  "begin  to 
lecture  me  about  the  lavish  luxury  of  the  Capitol — 
the  regime  of  Roman  splendor  and  the  social  sins  of  the 
nouveaux  riches.  I've  heard  so  often  about  the  good 
taste  and  simplicity  of  that  roseate  past,  wherein  plain 
statesmen  received  their  due  meed  of  appreciation  for 
merited  achievement  and  their  wives  were  never  tempt- 
ed to  envy  other  women  their  gowns,  but  I  don't  agree 
with  you  fully  in  making  a  martyr  of  the  poor  Con- 
gressman and  crying  down  his  richer  brother.  Why 
should  he  attempt  to  emulate  the  expensive  profusion 
of  his  surroundings  to  rival  the  noise  and  the  tinsel? 
Why  not  content  himself  with  old-fashioned  notions? 
The  most  delightful  characteristics  of  gentle  breeding 
still  survive  among  some  of  the  residents  of  Washing- 
ton, but  their  hospitality  isn't,  of  course,  extended  to 
the  self-assertive  importance  that  unfortunately  ap- 
pears at  times  in  official  circles. 

"Suppose  the  people  were  to  do  as  you  suggest  and 
refuse  to  elect  to  Congress  another  millionaire,  wouldn  *t 
that  be  a  sort  of  boycott  of  the  rich?  And  poverty  in 
itself  is  not  a  virtue;  although  plain  living  and  high 
thinking  have  been  so  earnestly  extolled." 

"Then  you  don't  approve  of  my  public  utterances  on 
the  subject?" 

It  was  characteristic  of  the  man  that  her  opinion  of 
himself  should  be  the  paramount  issue  in  his  mind, 
while  some  of  her  dearest  little  theories  of  life  in  gen- 
eral had  entirely  missed  fire.  He  was  one  of  those 


THE   DAYSMAN  263 

whose  greed  of  applause  would  make  large  demands 
from  a  wife. 

"How  persistently  you  misunderstand  one!"  she  ex- 
claimed impatiently.  "You  were  as  difficult  about  my 
original  question  which,  by  the  way,  had  no  reference 
to  Robert  Freeman.  My  curiosity  confined  itself  to 
the  other  man.  I'm  not  at  all  interested  in  his  grand- 
father." 

She  felt  humiliated,  angry  (with  herself  first  of  all) 
for  this  growing  tendency  to  unreasoning  criticism  that 
marred  the  harmony  of  their  relation.  Was  it  normal, 
was  it  fair  that  she  should  be  constanty  weighing  his 
motives  and  bringing  him  thus  to  book*  Suppose  he 
were  to  judge  her  by  her  own  pet  inconsistencies?  In 
a  moment  she  was  sorry,  with  the  sweet  impulsive  con- 
trition of  a  generous  nature. 

"Forgive  me,  Clarence.  How  foolish  of  us  to  quarrel 
over  our  ideas  about  a  stranger." 

It  was  from  the  depths  of  an  honest  conviction  from 
which  truth  seemed  the  only  basis  for  a  better  under- 
standing that  she  asked  pardon  for  the  root  instead  of 
for  its  lesser  outgrowth  which  had  taken  the  form  of 
a  surface  irritation.  But  to  Beverly,  sublimely  uncon- 
scious of  his  own  limitations,  her  apology  seemed  worse 
than  trivial. 

"Quarrel!"  he  exclaimed  in  petulant  surprise  and 
very  evident  annoyance.  "My  dear  Carroll,  I  never 
quarrel." 

"Oh!"  she  cried  breathlessly,  and  in  her  tone  there 
•was  a  pained  astonishment  that  he  failed  to  detect.  She 
recovered  herself  rapidly,  however,  and  with  the  proud 


264  THE   DAYSMAN 

determination  that  he  should  not  know  how  deeply  she 
had  been  hurt,  added  quickly: 

"Certainly;  you  are  right,  Clarence.  Quarreling  is 
undignified,  as  well  as  incompatible  with  the  pose  of 
the  statesman  which  it  is  so  necessary  for  you  to  main- 
tain." 

There  was  laughter  in  her  eyes  and  a  friendly  rail- 
lery in  the  tone  that  robbed  her  words  of  the  slight 
tinge  of  satire  which  might  otherwise  have  been  at- 
tached to  the  remark.  It  was  not  the  first  time,  more- 
over, that  her  keen  and  ready  sense  of  fun  had  saved 
the  situation  between  them. 

"Of  course,"  he  rejoined,  testily. 

Like  most  persons  who  are  solemnly  absorbed  in 
themselves  he  was  deficient  in  humor  as  well  as  lacking 
in  those  finer  sensibilities  which  can  differentiate  the 
far-reaching  significance  in  delicate  shadings  of  man- 
ner. 

"And  I  wish "  his  monosyllabic  interruption  had 

made  a  difference,  and  now  even  her  very  real  contri- 
tion could  not  quite  cover  the  note  of  gentle  irony  with 
which  she  said — "in  fact,  I  prefer  to  shoulder  all  blame 
for  our  unfortunate  little  difference.  It  was  quite  nasty 
of  me  to  speak  so  sharply." 

"I  had  not  noticed,"  he  replied,  magnanimously, 
"anything  wrong  in  your  tone." 

"Really!"  and  this  time  the  sarcasm  was  too  thinly 
veiled  to  have  escaped  any  ears  but  those  of  Beverly. 
"How  generous  of  you  not  to  notice  one's  faults,  Mon- 
sieur le  Senator." 

It  was  one  of  his  weaknesses  to  enjoy  the  dignity  of 


THE   DAYSMAN  265 

titles,  and,  no  doubt,  because  it  was  his  highest  claim 
to  distinction  the  use  of  the  legislative  prefix  was  as 
incense  to  his  soul. 

She — whose  traditions  had  taught  her  that  "the  man 
cradled  on  a  peak"  must  needs  descend  rather  than 
elimb  to  claim  the  baubles  of  earthly  honor — could  not 
understand  his  point  of  view,  and  yet  the  worst  of  it 
was,  she  told  herself,  that  she  realized  his  pet  vanities 
sufficiently  well  to  play  upon  them. 

"To  be  'generous  to  a  fault'  one  has  to  realize  it,  my 
dear."  He  was  smiling  once  more.  Her  apology  had 
restored  the  complacence  of  self-esteem  and  his  own 
neat  turn  of  a  phrase  had  completed  his  good-humor. 
Satisfied  with  himself  and  the  world  he  was  again  ready 
to  be  his  most  delightful  self  with  her. 

But  she  had  reached  a  point  where  she  could  brook 
none  of  him,  at  least,  until  she  had  set  things  right 
again  with  herself,  and  for  that  she  felt  sure  she  would 
have  to  be  alone. 

"I  think,"  she  said,  wheeling  her  horse  about,  sud- 
denly, "that  I  shall  have  to  leave  you  here.  I  had  al- 
most forgotten  my  appointment  with  father — we  are  to 
have  luncheon  together  at  his  hotel." 

They  had  been  riding  on  the  Rock  Creek  road.  It 
had  long  been  a  daily  morning  habit  with  her,  and  of 
late  Beverly  had  managed  frequently  to  fall  in  at  some 
point  along  the  way  and  return  with  her  to  her  uncle's 
door.  Even  the  groom  had  come  to  regard  it  as  a  cus- 
tom, and  was  lagging  far  in  the  rear,  but  now  she  sum- 
moned him  quickly  and  gave  the  order  "home." 


266  THE   DAYSMAN 

"May  I  not  come?"  asked  Beverly  as  soon  as  he  real- 
ized the  change  of  plan. 

"Not  to-day,"  she  rejoined  decidedly,  and  he  under- 
stood that  she  was  not  to  be  gainsaid. 

"I  couldn't  all6w  you  to  shorten  your  ride.  Be- 
sides," and  her  eyes  danced  wickedly,  "I  shall  have  to 
go  rather  fast — to  make  up  time — and  you  prefer,  I 
think,  to  walk  a  horse."  He  was  far  from  an  expert 
horseman,  was  in  fact  keenly  aware  that  he  appeared  to 
disadvantage  in  the  saddle,  and  she  had  already  ac- 
quired a  perilous  understanding  of  his  mental  processes. 

The  man  had  come  up  this  time,  and  was  off  of  his 
horse  tightening  the  girths  of  her  saddle,  for  he  had 
caught  the  tenor  of  the  last  remark,  and  experience  had 
taught  him  how  his  mistress  sometimes  rode. 

"Everything  safe,  James?"  she  asked  finally,  and 
then  with  a  cool  little  nod  and  a  "good  morning,  Sen- 
ator Beverly,"  they  were  off. 

On  the  outskirts  of  town  she  passed  John  Treverin, 
who  had  instinctively  drawn  aside  when  he  heard  the 
wild  beating  of  rapid  hoofs  behind  him,  and  was  await- 
ing as  a  man  might  wait  whom  an  emergency  would 
find  ready  for  action. 

Her  horse  swerved  sightly  as  it  caught  sight  of  his 
own  mount,  and  then  in  a  moment  had  shot  far  beyond 
him,  and  was  adjusting  itself  quickly  to  the  rhythmic 
motion  of  her  swaying  body. 

"By  Jove!"  he  exclaimed  softly,  as  he  noted  the  easy 
poise  and  graceful  carriage  of  the  rider,"  it's  the  Lady 
in  Brown  and — she  lias  a  fine  grip  on  her  nerves.  No 


THE   DAYSMAN  267 

•wonder  she  could  appreciate  a  'charger'!  A  woman 
who  rides  like  that!" 

And  then — as  he  dropped  into  an  easy  canter — he 
added  speculatively,  with  a  smile  that  was  a  trifle  grim. 

"Is  anything  up,  I  wonder,  between  her  and  Beverly. 
I'd  be  willing  to  wager  a  good  deal  that  sooner  or 
later  she'll  see  through  the  man.  Given  rope  enough 
and  time  enough  he's  pretty  sure  to  hang  himself,  but 
the  danger  would  be  about  the  time — if  that  report 
were  true."  With  which  disconnected  sentence  he  im- 
agined that  he  had  dismissed  the  subject  from  his  mind. 

Carroll  Minturn  in  the  meantime,  having  taken 
refuge  in  a  flight  that  freed  her  from  the  presence  of 
her  lover,  was  finding  more  difficulty  in  getting  rid  of 
those  doubts  that  had  begun  to  pursue  her  in  a  very 
definite  form. 

"And  so  he  never  quarrels!"  she  thought,  indig- 
nantly. "Couldn't  he  have  been  chivalrous  enough  to 
spare  me  that  slap?  Ah,  that  is  the  very  worst  of  it! 
One  cannot  be  quite  sure  whether  or  no  the  grace  of 
true  chivalry  is  to  be  found  in  his  spiritual  organiza- 
tion or  even  in  his  moral  make-up.  His  vices  are  only 
negative,  and  yet  sometimes  one  wonders  if  the  total 
sum  of  them  wouldn't  almost  overbalance  his  very  posi- 
tive virtues." 

She  was  thoroughly  aroused  and  angry.  Every  in- 
stinct of  her  nature  had  risen  in  arms  and  was  at  war 
with  his  personality,  for  in  that  personality  she  had  be- 
gun to  feel  vaguely  a  lack  which  she  could  not  as  yet — 
even  to  herself — define. 

She  was  thinking  swiftly  as  she  rode,  trying  to  find 


268  THE   DAYSMAN 

her  way  out  of  a  labyrinth  of  darkness  to  some  central 
point  of  light. 

"Have  all  the  so-called  great  men  of  the  world,  I 
wonder,"  she  asked  herself  bitterly,  "been  disappoint- 
ing when  one  knew  them  off  the  stage,  when  one  caught 
a  fleeting  glimpse  of  what  they  were  behind  the  scenes? 
Is  it  true  that  not  one  of  them  could  have  been  the  hero 
of  his  valet — or  his  wife?" 

"Carroll,  Carroll!"  cautioned  her  conscience,  "this 
is  high  treason  to  the  man  you've  promised  to  marry. 
Besides  you  were  decidedly  provoking  in  what  you  said 
and  odiously  unreasonable  in  your  manner.  How  could 
you  expect  him  to  know  what  you  were  driving  at,  in 
your  mind,  and  are  you  entirely  sure  that  you  yourself 
understand  what  it  is  that  you  want  ? ' ' 

"I  am  not  sure  of  anything,"  she  told  herself  rebel- 
liously,  "only  that  I  expected  him  to  be  more  nearly 
satisfying." 

"And  yet — oh,  I  hope,"  it  was  a  silent,  passionate 
cry,  "I  hope  that  I  am  not  growing  petty  and  trivial  in 
my  demands,  that  I  am  not  unfair  enough  to  want  per- 
fection, to  expect  so  much  more  than  I  could  give." 

Worn  out,  at  length,,  she  gave  herself  over  in  the 
end  to  the  exhilarating  enjoyment  of  a  purely  physi- 
cal struggle,  and  rode  as  she  had  often  done  for  the 
mere  wild  love  of  riding,  after  which  she  brought  her 
horse  down  to  the  sedate  walk  with  which  they  entered 
town. 

She  was  calmer  when  she  reached  home,  more  hum- 
ble, ready  to  meet  the  full  share  of  blame  for  the  void 
that  had  been  created  by  an  acknowledged  disappoint- 


THE    DAYSMAN  269 

ment,  and  dangerously  ready  to  exonerate  her  lover  for 
what  might  have  been  a  very  real  failure  to  measure 
up  to  the  fullness  of  the  stature  of  the  man  whom  she 
would  mate. 

With  the  generous  impulsiveness  of  a  nature  that 
had  not  been  cast  in  a  smaller  mould  she  would  be  glad 
to  prove  herself  wrong  in  a  hasty  judgment  or  an  ad- 
verse opinion  of  one  for  whom  she  had  come  to  care; 
she  might  be  almost  too  quick,  indeed,  to  reason  an  in- 
stinct into  a  prejudice. 

One  of  the  greatest  perils  of  an  intellectual  woman 
is  her  readiness  to  substitute  her  belief  in  that  growing 
mental  power  to  comprehend  which  we  call  reason  for 
her  former  confidence  in  the  greater  gift  of  intuition, 
which,  in  its  highest  development,  is  vouchsafed  to  her 
sex  alone.  Her  judgment,  disarmed  of  this  unerring 
weapon,  becomes  an  easy  prey  to  the  conviction  that 
she  has  been  unjust  in  her  methods  of  forming  what 
may  have  been  an  estimate  that  is  wholly  just,  and 
thereupon  she  is  more  than  ready  to  atone  for  unkind- 
ness  of  thought  by  a  deeper  kindness  of  manner. 

Given  such  a  handicap,  a  man  of  inferior  clay  may 
have  more  hope  of  winning  his  way  toward  her  favor 
than  his  stronger  rival  who  makes  a  less  vital  appeal  to 
those  sympathies  which  are  so  nearly  akin  to  love.  Her 
very  conscience  becomes  his  powerful  ally — almost  his 
strongest  advocate,  accusing  her  of  unreasoning  criti- 
cisms and  unfounded  dislikes  for  which  she  must  needs 
atone. 

Ten  chances  to  one,  therefore,  Clarence  Beverly 
would  be  able  to  hold  his  own  with  this  woman  because 


270  THE   DAYSMAN 

of  her  very  capacity  to  judge  him  at  his  true  worth, 
and  yet  deep  down  in  her  subconsciousness  on  the 
strong  undercurrent  of  an  innate  instinct  for  truth 
there  floated  the  fragment  of  a  sentence  that  she  did 
not  want  to  remember  but  could  not  entirely  forget— 
"some  natures  are  too  good  to  be  spoiled  by  praise, 
and  wherever  the  vein  of  thought  reaches  down  into 
the  profound  there  is  no  danger  from  vanity." 


THE    DAYSMAN  271 


v  CHAPTER  II. 

"Now  to   rivulets   from  the   mountains 

Point  the  rods  of  fortune-tellers; 
Youth  perpetual  dwells  in  fountains, — 

Not   in   flasks,   and   casks,   and   cellars." 

"RiCK,"  remarked  Elizabeth  Wood,  thoughtfully, 
as  she  finished  reading  her  brother's  letter,  "some- 
thing has  gone  to  Jack's  head;  he  never  wrote  like  this 
before." 

"I  have  always  said,  you  know,"  responded  her  hus- 
band smiling,  as  he  came  around  to  her  chair  and 
stooped  to  tell  her  good-bye,  "that  a  correspondence 
with  you  was  an  inspiration  which  no  man  could  af- 
ford to  miss." 

"Flatterer!"  She  smiled  absently,  reflectively,  her 
mind  still  upon  her  brother,  although  her  next  words 
were  addressed  to  Richard  Wood. 

"When  will  you  learn,  dear,  that  it  isn't  at  all  mod- 
ern to  say  pretty  things  to  one's  wife?" 

"One  can  almost  risk  not  being  modern,"  he  replied 
laughing,  "when  one  has  such  a  fascinating  spouse." 

She  laughed  with  him  very  softly,  and  there  was  a 
fine  pretense  of  hopelessness  in  the  way  she  shook  her 
head. 

"You  haven't  informed  me  yet,"  she  began  at 
length,  and  he  caught  the  glimmer  of  a  mischievous 


272  THE   DAYSMAN 

smile,  "whether  I'm  likely  to  have  any  impromptu 
guests  for  dinner  tonight." 

"Tonight!"  he  exclaimed  in  quick  surprise,  "have 
you  really  forgotten  the  date?" 

She  could  not  see  his  face,  for  he  was  standing  in 
front  of  her  sitting-room  window,  looking  down  upon 
her  as  she  sat  at  her  desk  ready  to  begin  the  day's  cor- 
respondence. It  was  here  that  they  chatted  for  the 
few  brief  moments  that  were  theirs  together  before 
each  morning's  work. 

"Have  I  really  forgotten?"  she  mocked  lightly. 
' '  Tell  me, ' '  she  demanded,  with  an  air  of  insatiable  cur- 
iosity which  he  suspected  to  be  assumed. 

With  a  sudden  quick  gesture  he  leaned  over  and 
lightly  tilted  her  chin  that  he  might  be  the  better  able 
to  thoroughly  search  her  eyes  and  then,  "What  a 
fraud  you  are!"  he  exclaimed,  and  his  low  laugh 
sounded  singularly  rich  and  very  clear,  "when  you 
know  as  well  as  I  that  this  is  the  one  evening  of  the 
year  that  is  yours  and  mine — alone." 

"Tell  me  why,"  she  persisted,  with  a  deeply  puz- 
zled expression  and  prettily  lifted  brows:  "Dates  have 
always  been  my  bete  noir,"  she  added,  with  a  demure 
smile. 

"Eleven  years  ago,"  he  began  gravely,  "just  eleven 
years  ago  today,  I  discovered  that  you  were  you 
through  a  most  delightful  letter." 

It  was  one  of  those  anniversaries  of  whose  intimate 
privacy  others  would  never  know,  but  the  fact  that  it 
was  still  celebrated  between  them  was  proof  that  the 


THE    DAYSMAN  Yll 

touch  of  time  had  not  robbed  the  bloom  from  their 
love. 

"Dear!"  was  all  that  she  said,  but  her  smile  told 
him  many  things.  "And  to  think,"  she  added  softly, 
"that  Jack,  dear  boy,  unconsciously  played  the  inter- 
esting part  of  Cupid. 

"I  can't  guess,"  she  began  presently,  "what  you 
are  going  to  bring  me  this  time!" 

It  was  her  joyous  gayety,  her  child-like  enthusiasm 
for  the  next  thing,  that  was,  perhaps,  the  secret  of  that 
charm  which  she  continued  to  exercise  over  this  man 
upon  whose  matter-of-fact  nature  sentiment  alone  might 
have  palled. 

"But  I  can  guess — in  fact,  I  almost  know,  what  you 
will  bring  to  me  when  we  meet  down  there  at  our  tryst- 
ing  place  just  at  the  bend  of  the  road!" 

"Oh,  but  that  is  a  very  old  story,  and  your  gifts 
are  always  original  and  such  a  glorious  surprise ! ' ' 

"It's  a  story  that  never  grows  stale  in  the  telling 
and,  when  it  comes  to  a  question  of  gifts,  there  isn't 
even  a  remote  comparison  of  values." 

"Now  what,"  she  demanded  merrily,  with  a  very 
judicial  smile,  "would  you  consider  that  a  man  de- 
served for  such  a  delightful  speech?" 

"What  he  deserves,"  he  rejoined  laughing,  "is  be- 
side the  question,  but  he  always  takes  what  he  thinks 
he  can  get  and  trusts  time  and  you  for  the  rest." 

"Do  you  know,"  he  added  still  lingering,  "that  I 
used  to  have  a  haunting  fear  that  I  shouldn't  be  at  all 
able  to  come  up  to  your  ideas  of  a  husband  because 
my  training  hadn't  included  a  course  in  the  art  of 


274  THE    DAYSMAN 

making  love,  and  I  wasn't  at  all  proficient  in  the  graces 
of  courtship.  I  realized,  you  know,  first  from  your 
letter  and  then,  later  I  saw  for  myself,  that  you  had 
been  accustomed  to  rather  a  finished  style  from  several 
other  men." 

"But,"  she  interrupted  quickly,  "you  might  have 
known  that  you  would  succeed  because,"  she  hesitated 
a  moment  for  a  sufficiently  convincing  reason,  "oh,  just 
because  you  did  so  many  things  well." 

"I  have  succeeded,  then?"  His  questioning  eyes 
sought  in  hers  for  the  shadow  that  overlies,  sometimes, 
the  sunshine  of  a  happiness  which  is  nothing  more  than 
the  brightness  that  comes  from  reflected  light,  but  to 
their  clear  depths  they  sparkled  with  the  wine  of  life 
and  a  beauty  brimming  over  with  the  fullness  of  its 
joy. 

"Don't  you  know  that  you  have  more  than  succeed- 
ed?" she  asked,  slowly.  "Can't  you  see  that  you  have 
been  a  royal  lover,  Rick?" 

"Muwer,"  asked  a  little  voice  at  her  elbow,  "you 
puomised  that  Witchard  might  wide  a  little  way  wif 
faver  and  Midnight  and  I  wis  ou  would  let  Witchard 
tome  wif  ou  sometime  down  to  ye  bend  of  ye  woad. " 

"You  rogue!"  cried  Wood  laughing,  as  he  laid  thc.» 
light  tenderness  of  a  loving  hand  upon  each  of  the 
baby's  shoulders,  "what  can  you  know  about  the  bend 
of  the  road?" 

"Ony  one  day,"  began  the  child  solemnly,  "Witch- 
ard saw  his  muwer  tiss  his  faver  dere.  and  most  all  ye 
uvver  times,  I  fink,"  he  continued  with  wide,  earnest 
eyes  upon  his  mother's  face,  "my  faver  tisses  ou," 


THE   DAYSMAN  275 

"A  distinction  not  without  a  difference,"  she  cried, 
laughing  as  she  buried  her  face  in  his  curls,  "but  you 
might  have  spared  mother's  blushes,  son.  However, 
Rick,  even  out  of  the  mouths  of  babes  one  may  some- 
times acquire  wisdom,  and,"  looking  over  the  child's 
head  with  a  roguish  smile,  "don't  you  think  I'd  better 
not  come  tonight?" 

"Look  here,  son,"  demanded  his  father  as  he  seated 
himself  and  lifted  the  boy  to  his  knee,  "where  was 
Richard  when  he  saw  his  mother  do  such  a  delightful 
thing?  You've  all  unwittingly  plotted  against  your 
father's  happiness,  little  man,  and  now,  sir,  you've  got 
to  help  him  out." 

"I  wud  wight  at  dis  vewy  wimdow,"  replied  Rich- 
ard, the  younger,  pointing  with  one  chubby  hand  out 
past  his  father's  shoulder.  "Tant  you  see  dat  wight 
down  dere  id  dest  ye  bend  of  ye  woad?" 

"It  certainly  is,  Rick,"  exclaimed  his  wife,  follow- 
ing with  her  eyes  the  line  indicated  by  the  baby's  fin- 
gers, "and  all  this  time  our  little  trysting  place  has 
been  quite  within  range  of  a  curious  eye." 

There  was  a  note  of  real  distress  in  her  voice  which 
she  tried  to  cover  with  a  pretty  moue.  "And  to  think 
of  the  reports  that  may  have  gotten  around  through 
the  servants!" 

"We  can  survive  them,  I  haven't  a  doubt,"  he  re- 
plied with  a  tranquillity  that  could  not  quite  hide  the 
twinkle  in  his  eye,  "although,"  he  added  comfort- 
ingly for  he  realized  her  pet  aversion  to  the  public 
demonstration  of  a  private  sentiment,  "although,  pos- 


276  THE   DAYSMAN 

•ibly,  the  boy  is  the  only  one  in  the  secret  besides  our- 
selves." 

"I'll  have  to  bear  my  chagrin  gracefully,  of  course, 
but  how  would  you  like  to  be  characterized  as  uxorious, 
and  I  confess  that  I  should 't  at  all  care  to  be  consid- 
ered foolish  when  we've  actually  attained  the  digni- 
fied estate  of  having  been  married  quite  eight  years." 

"I  think  I  can  afford  to  be  supremely  indifferent," 
he  rejoined,  laughing,  "as  long  as  the  uxorial  charms 
have  made  me  the  envy  of  my  friends,  and  as  for  that 
other  opprobrious  epithet,  you  are  a  woman,  dear,  who 
is  wise  enough  to  laugh  at  the  word  foolish,  which, 
however,  no  one  would  even  dream,  I  think,  of  applying 
to  you. 

"Besides,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  sweetheart,"  he  was  as 
eager  as  a  boy  in  his  effort  to  convince  her,  "this  is  the 
only  window  which  could  command  that  view,  and ' ' 

"Don't  ou  wemember,  muvver  dear,  it  wud  de  day 
when  Witchard  wud  wocked  in  dis  woom  by  mil'- 
take?"  The  baby  memory  had  at  last  groped  its  way 
back  to  primal  reasons,  to  first  causes,  and  the  baby 
intelligence  asserted  its  right  to  be  heard. 

"You  darling,"  cried  Elizabeth,  with  impulsive  re- 
lief, '  to  make  mother  remember  that  this  door  is  always 
locked  whenever  she  is  out !  I  do,  Rick, ' '  she  explained 
joyously,  for  the  benefit  of  her  husband,  "it  has  grown 
to  be  an  almost  unconscious  habit  of  the  daytime,  when 
my  desk  is  littered  with  private  letters  and  important 
papers  it  simply  refuses  to  be  closed,  and  so  as  a  pro- 
tection against  youthful  curiosity,"  and  she  smiled 
over  a  bright  head  that  had  come  to  her  arms  for  a 


THE   DAYSMAN  277 

reward  whose  rich  significance  it  could  not  quite  com- 
prehend, "and  prying  eyes,  I  simply  turn  the  key,  and 
one  day,"  she  added  gravely,  "when  mother  was  busy 
and  Richard  slipped  in  to  hide  from  nurse  he  went  fast 
asleep  'wight'  uner  the  lounge  and — the  tale  ends  hap- 
pily— voila  touteV " 

"Bravo,  son!"  cried  Richard  "Wood  patting  the 
curly  head ;  and  although  he  could  not  comprehend  the 
reason  for  this  general  enthusiasm  the  baby  added  his 
note  to  their  mirth  and  laughed  in  ecstatic  glee. 
"Mother  and  father  and  Richard  all  remembered  at 
just  the  right  time  and,  therefore,  my  dear,"  he  con- 
tinued, smiling  as  he  rose  to  go,  "promise  him  faith- 
fully that  you  won't  fail  to  meet  your  husband  to- 
night." 

"I  promise,  because  I  think  it  would  be  a  very  hard- 
hearted woman  who  could  continue  to  resist,"  she  re- 
turned, with  an  answering  smile. 

"Yes,  son,  you  may  go,  if  Faver  will  promise  to  put 
you  down  just  inside  the  gates.  And  now  it's  Jack's 
turn,"  she  murmured,  turning  back  to  her  desk,  the 
moment  she  was  alone,  while  an  odd  little  smile  hov- 
ered about  the  corners  of  her  mouth  as  she  thought 
over  her  brother's  letter.  "I  wonder,  it  might  have 
been,  Carroll,  except  for  that  disagreeable  rumor, 
which  probably  isn't  true." 

"Don't  you  think  it  was  rather  naughty,  Jack, 
dear,"  she  wrote,  "to  accuse  your  sister  of  being  a  self- 
appointed  aide-de-camp  to  that  wily  little  archer,  com- 
monly known  as  the  blind  god?  To  be  sure,  Rick  says 
I'm  quite  the  most  successful  matchmaker  he  knows, 


278  THE   DAYSMAN 

but  that  is  quite  another  story,  and  has  reference  to 
the  servants  and  my  own  particular  private  woes,  'wich 
I  mean  ter  say,'  Jack,  it's  far  from  amusing  to  have 
matters  brought  home  too  closely,  and  I  much  prefer 
the  realm  of  pure  romance. 

"Apropos  of  that  last  sentiment,  by  the  way,  I  should 
like  to  suggest,  if  it  were  any  use,  that  in  the  event  of 
your  ever  hearing  of  a  good  butler,  with  a  little  &,  my 
dear,  referring  to  a  species  not  a  clan,  astray  and  in 
search  of  employment,  I  should  like  to  suggest  that  it 
would  be  a  stroke  of  positive  genius,  or  at  least  some- 
thing in  the  nature  of  decided  inspiration,  to  express 
him  to  me  post-haste,  that  is,  of  course,  if  he'll  come. 

"No  doubt,  you  utterly  fail  to  appreciate  the  vital 
significance  of  that  little  word  'if  and,  of  course,  there 
isn't  a  chance  that  you  will  'strike  such  a  bonanza,' 
but  never  mind,  I've  reached  that  stage  of  desperation 
where,  like  Nora,  in  the  'Doll's  House,'  I'm  looking 
for  'the  miracle  of  miracles.' 

"I  used,  I  believe,  to  regard  the  'servant  problem' 
as  a  sort  of  conversational  fetish  of  the  middle-class 
American,  but  'wae's  me,'  I  had  yet  to  learn  my  folly 
through  the  trials  and  tribulations  of  keeping  open 
house  in  the  Territory. 

"You  know,  or  perhaps  you  don't  know,  since  I  have 
heretofore  borne  my  sorrows  uncomplainingly,  or  at 
least  have  kept  them  locked  in  the  bosom  of  my  more 
immediate  family,  meaning,  of  course,  Rick,  without 
whose  sympathy  I  should  long  ago  have  succumbed. 
You  don't  know,  then,  that  our  menage  has  heretofore 
consisted  principally  and  one  might  add,  perforce  of 


THE    DAYSMAN  279 

maid-servants,  who  seem  to  find  the  Western  prospect 
far  more  pleasing  than  those  male  functionaries  that 
have  attained  an  equal  proficiency  in  the  art  of  ser- 
vice. 

' '  For  a  long  time  I  have  suspected  our  not  too- 
efficient  Jehu  of  being  bound  'to  the  soil'  by  the  charm 
of  my  own  maid,  Celeste,  while  we  are  morally  certain 
that  he  and  Rick's  valet  de  chambre  have  united  to 
'bully'  our  solitary  footman  into  remaining  simply  in 
order  to  spare  themselves  the  infliction  of  his  work  as 
'extra  duties.' 

"Imagine,  therefore,  if  you  can,  your  poor  sister's 
consternation  when,  a  week  ago,  Celeste  announced 
that  she  and  William  (the  coachman)  were  to  be  mar- 
ried within  a  month,  and  I  rather  fancy  she  expected  me 
to  be  thankful  that  the  change  didn't  involve  the  loss 
of  William.  She  has  'consented,'  she  informed  me,  'to 
keep  house'  over  the  stables  in  order  that  she  might 
eventually  learn  to  'take  care  of  the  fine  laundry 
work — Celeste  always  was  a  good  manager — as  well  as 
'  do  my  hair, '  and  look  after  me  generally,  until  I  could 
get  another  maid. 

"That  last  concession  was,  of  course,  meant  to  stay 
the  outpouring  of  my  vials  of  wrath,  for  I'm  quite  sure 
every  other  plan,  even  about  the  laundry  work,  was 
made  chiefly  for  the  good  of  Celeste  and  William,  and 
— think  of  it — she's  been  with  me  quite  ten  years! 

"As  for  the  other  servants,  they're  turning  us  into 
a  perfect  matrimonial  bureau.  I  brought  out  a  com- 
plete set  from  New  York  last  Fall — not  including  Ce- 
leste— all  warranted  'neat  and  attractive  in  appearance 


280  THE    DAYSMAN 

and  competent  in  execution.'  A  dangerous  recom- 
mendation, mon  cher,  as  you  will  admit,  when  you  know 
the  rest — for  now  that  I've  begun  to  unburden  myself, 
I  think  I'll  find  relief  in  pouring  into  your  sympathetic 
ear  the  whole  sad  story. 

''Before  we  had  been  home  a  month  one  of  the  house- 
maids eloped  with  a  prosperous  tradesman,  who  had 
been  making  daily  pilgrimages  to  Rocklands,  it  was 
afterwards  explained.  He  insisted  upon  an  early  mar- 
riage because  the  trip  out  here — we're  two  miles  from 
town — 'cut  down  his  profits — they  took  so  much  time.' 

"The  tastes  of  the  parlor-maid  and  the  chamber- 
maids are  not  so  materialistic.  To  them  romance  seems 
to  make  a  definite  appeal,  or  is  it  only  the  picturesque 
realism  of  this  'wild  and  wooly  West'?  At  any  rate, 
Rick  says  the  number  of  bronchos  and  cow-ponies  tied 
up  here  after  sunset  reminds  him  of  a  Fall  round-up; 
and  I  have  vague  premonitory  visions  in  which  all  my 
maids  appear  to  have  been  corraled  by  dashing  young 
cattlemen  disguised  as  Lochinvars  or  seem  to  be  learn- 
ing .the  dangerous  intricacies  of  the  'diamond  hitch,' 
and  in  the  general  confusion  of  these  nightmares  there 
is  always  William  'giving  the  bride  away'  as  he  did  in 
the  case  of  that  graceless  house-maid  for  whom  Celeste 
acted  as  bridesmaid — sub  rosa,  I  understand. 

"My  cook,  thank  heaven,  is  a  fixture;  you  remember 
old  Aunt  Liza,  whom  mother  bequeathed  to  father  and 
you  handed  over  to  Rick?  She's  the  only  comfort  I 
have  among  the  cares  and  troubles  of  my  domestic 
world.  'Law,  honey,'  she  said  only  yesterday  morning, 
when  I  was  giving  the  order  for  the  day,  'doan  you 


THE   DAYSMAN  281 

worry  Hbout  de  weddins'  cause  no  mattah  what  happens 
you  all  gwine  have  victuals  to  eat  ez  long  as  ole  Liza's 
in  dis  yere  worl.  'Sides,  dey's  allus  boun  tu  be  ma 'in' 
an'  goblin'  ma'iage  tell  de  een  ob  time;  so  we  mought 
e?,  well  all  tek  things  easy  an'  mek  de  bes'  ob  what 
comes.'  Which  proves,  Jack,  that  I'm  not  without  the 
solace  of  philosophy. 

"You  will  hardly  be  surprised,  however,  when  I  an- 
nounce that  I've  registered  a  solemn  vow  to  employ 
hereafter,  if  possible,  only  men-servants — or  most  'unat- 
tractive' members  of  the  opposite  sex. 

""Wherefore,  I  give  you  carte  blanche  to  perform  'the 
miracle  of  miracles,'  although  I  haven't,  as  I  said  be- 
fore, the  slightest  faith  in  your  power  along  these  un- 
accustomed lines. 

"Rick  says  it  would  be  amusing  if  it  were  not  too 
tragic  to  watch  me  search  through  the  mail — ruthlessly 
thrusting  aside  the  epistolary  effusions  of  personal 
friendship  for  disappointing  communications  from 
some  New  York  intelligence  office.  He  declares  he 
would  be  almost  guilty  of  bribery  and  corruption  as 
well  as  of  rashly  promising  the  'half  of  his  kingdom' 
if  thereby  he  could  succeed  in  smoothing  a  few  of  the 
gathering  wrinkles  out  of  my  frowning  brow. 

"Dear  me,  this  is — what  page  is  it?  To  think  I've 
been  driven  to  garrulity  and  on  such  a  topic ! 

"LATE  AFTERNOON. 

"I  was  interrupted  this  morning,  dear,  and  really 
I  am  almost  ashamed  to  send  this  long,  heart-rending 
wail. 

"I  wish  you  could  see  the  superb  view  from  my  win- 


282  THE   DAYSMAN 

dows!  You  can't  imagine  what  a  fascinating  sensa- 
tion it  is  to  know  that  one's  house  is  builded  upon  a 
rock ;  to  be  able  to  look  in  every  direction  for  more  than 
a  hundred  miles.  From  where  I  sit  perched  upon  my 
lofty  eyrie  I  can  see  far  along  a  winding  valley  to 
vermillion  cliffs,  beyond,  that  sweep  upward  in  a  bold 
and  precipitous  line  fairly  dazzling  to  the  imagination. 
We  certainly  'dominate  our  landscape,'  and  that  re- 
minds, me  Jack,  I  wish  you  could  see  our  new  road. 
We  are  immensely  proud  of  it,  for  the  grading  is  really 
superb.  The  incline  is  more  than  steep,  as  you  will 
remember,  but  the  ascent  is  now  so  gradual  that  it 
seems  almost  a  slight  feat  to  scale  our  little  mountain. 

"Like  'Sister  Anne,'  in  'Bluebeard,'  one  can  descry 
from  this  tower  one's  visitor  from  afar. 

"There  is  a  solitary  horseman  now,  just  at  the  foot 
of  the  approach.  It  will  take  him  fully  half  an  hour 
to  reach  Rocklands  and  the  summit,  for  the  road  circles 
about  the  mountain,  twisting  here,  there  and  every- 
where, like  the  lines  upon  a  map  that  lie  spread  out 
before  one  clean-cut  and  clear,  only  vanishing  now  and 
then  around  some  curving  bend  or  hidden  at  times  from 
view  in  the  shadow  of  the  trees.  In  a  moment,  I  can 
see  througli  the  glasses  exactly  who  it  is.  Ah,  but 
wait — I  shan't  need  the  glasses — that  rider  is  surely 
Rick;  he  has  a  certain  individual  swing — a  way,  you 
know,  of  sitting  his  horse  that  is  really  impossible  to 
mistake,  that  makes  me,  always,  very  sure. 

"Au  revoir,  Jack,  dear,  he  is  earlier  than  I  ex- 
pected. 

"By  the  way,  mon  frere,  I  appreciated  immensely 


THE   DAYSMAN  283 

your  fine  description  of  my  friend;  the  opinion  of  a 
thoroughly  disinterested  observer  is  often  delightfully 
piquant. 

"I  shall  address  this  to  New  York,  as  you  said  you 
were  returning  there  by  a  late  train  on  the  evening  of 
the  day  in  which  your  letter  was  written,  and  you  don't 
mention  when  you  expect  to  be  again  in  Washington. 
"Always  affectionately, 

"ELIZABETH/' 

It  was  forwarded,  however,  to  the  Capital,  where 
John  Treverin  read  with  not  a  little  amusement  his 
sister's  naive  suggestions  about  finding  her  a  butler, 
and  caught  the  spice  of  her  humorous  nonsense 
through  the  'round-up'  of  the  maids. 

"Dear  old  girl,"  he  muttered  softly,  "she  has  her 
little  trials  like  all  the  rest  of  the  world,  but,  thank 
heaven,  she's  happy! 

"Um,"  he  went  on  ruminatively,  commenting  on  the 
letter,  'thoroughly  disinterested  observer,'  I'm  not  so 
sure  of  that  fact  myself,  and  neither,  I  think,  is  she. 
A  fellow  never  could  hide  much  from  Bab. 

"Ah,  what's  this?"  He  had  been  idly  turning  over 
his  other  mail,  and  glancing  over  a  few  cards  which  had 
been  left  during  the  time  that  he  had  been  away,  when 
a  name  on  one  of  the  latter  attracted  his  attention. 

"Senator  Carroll — card  dated  the  17th — called  evi- 

denly  the  morning  after  I  left  Washington" and 

then  he  went  rapidly  through  the  rest  of  the  letters 
with  quick,  businesslike  method. 

"Heigho,"  as  he  at  length  picked  up  the  evening 
paper,  with  an  air  of  intense  weariness,  "life  is  a 


284 

pretty  steady  grind  without  any  'beer  and  skittles!'  ' 

What,  exactly,  was  his  present  idea  of  'beer  and 
skittles,'  it  would  not  have  been  easy  to  say,  but  cer- 
tainly oixe  might  have  gathered  from  the  remark  an  im- 
pression that  John  Treverin,  in  spite  of  his  reputed 
success,  had  not  yet  gotten  all  out  of  the  world  that  the 
hope  of  his  youth  had  led  him  to  anticipate. 

"Whew!"  and  he  whistled  softly  and  became  sud- 
denly alert  as  the  following  paragrph  met  his  eye: 

"A  report  current  here,  today,  that  Miss  Carroll 
Minturn,  daughter  of  Senator  Minturn,  of  this  city  and 

is  engaged  to  Senator  Beverly  of ,  is  allowed 

to  go  undenied  by  friends  and  relatives  of  each. 

"Miss  Minturn  is  the  only  daughter  of  the  dis- 
tinguished Senator  of  that  name,  a  niece  and  godchild 
of  ex-Senator  Carroll  (whose  wife  was  Miss  Anne  Min- 
turn of  Virginia)  with  whom  she  has  always  made  her 
home,  when  in  this  city,  since  her  mother's  death. 

"Senator  Carroll,  an  old  resident  of  Washington,  is 
a  descendant  of  that  famous  Charles  Carroll,  of  Car- 
rollton,  whose  statue  has  recently  been  placed  by  Mary- 
land in  the  'Old  Hall  of  Representatives'  and  a  portrait 
of  whom  as  a  signer  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence 
has  long  hung  in  the  corridor  above  the  east  stairway 
leading  to  the  galleries  of  the  House. 

"Senator  Minturn,  when  questioned  about  his 
daughter's  reported  engagement  refused  to  deny  or 
confirm  it,  and  ex-Senator  Carroll  seemed  inclined  not 
to  treat  the  matter  seriously,  declaring  that  he  knew 
nothing  about  the  young  people's  affairs  and  would 
not  talk  about  them  if  he  did. 


THE   DAYSMAN  285 

"The  story  has  created  much  interest,  but  none  ex- 
cept Senator  Carroll  would  comment  on  the  matter." 

"So  it's  true!"  said  John  Treverin  to  himself,  slow- 
ly. "I  believe,"  and  his  short  laugh  was  not  exactly 

mirthful,  "I  believe  I'm  actually  rather" he  did 

not  finish.  "Elizabeth's  'tip'  came  quite  too  late  and 
I  have  gotten  on  just  in  time  to  watch  another  man 
'corner  the  market.'  Not  a  pleasant  experience,  that, 
especially  to  one  who  dreamed  that  he  might  have  had 
some  appreciation  of  a  certain  class  of  stock!  Which 
only  proves  again,  I  suppose,  that  Jack  Treverin  never 
had  any  particular  business  with  dreams. 

"Hello!"  as  he  mechanically  turned  a  page  of  the 
paper,  "the  'news'  seems  unusually  interesting  and  to 
the  point,  today."  For  his  mind  had  suddenly  been 
caught  by  the  heading  of  a  column  of  advertisements 
wherein  he  read  under  the  caption,  "Butlers,"  that  a 
lady,  desirous  of  placing  to  his  advantage  a  competent 
negro  servant  who  had  served  for  thirty-five  years  in 
the  capacity  of  butler,  would  endeavor  to  receive  by 
special  appointment  those  who  were  sufficiently  inter- 
ested to  communicate  with  her  upon  the  subject,  and 
the  number  of  a  post-office  box  was  given  below. 

"'What  larks!'"  exclaimed  Treverin.  "Here's  a 
remedy  for  ennui,  'this  here'! 

"Discretion,  however,  being  the  'better  part  of  val- 
or,' we'll  first  send  a  wire  to  Elizabeth,"  and  seizing 
a  telegraph  blank  he  wrote  quickly:  "Ship  ahoy! 
Apropos  of  butler  (with  a  small  &)  how  would  a  man 
of  color  do?  Answer  at  once." 

He  was  at  dinner  when  the  reply  came. 


286  THE    DAYSMAN 

"  'The  miracle  of  miracles!'  Anything  that  is  hon- 
est and  can  serve  a  dinner  gratefully  received. 

"ELIZABETH  T.  WOOD." 

Whereupon  he  sent  off — special  delivery — a  carefully 
worded  communication  to  the  effect  that  Mrs.  Wood's 
representative  would  be  very  gla&  to  discuss  the  sub- 
ject of  the  enclosed  advertisement  at  any  hour  which 
the  lady,  mentioned  therein,  might  appoint. 

The  reply,  also  carefully  worded,  and  sent  special 
delivery  reached  him  at  breakfast.  It  read : 

"Miss  Minturn  will  receive  the  representative  of 
Mrs.  Wood  on  Thursday  morning  at  ten  o'clock,  with 
reference  to  the  butler  mentioned  in  her  advertisement 
of  Wednesday." 

And  was  signed  by  somebody  as  secretary.  The  ad- 
dress, an  exact  replica  of  his  own  scrawl,  told  him  that 
the  writer  had  not  been  able  to  decipher  his  name, 
whereat  he  chuckled  audibly: 

"My  luck  has  turned  at  last!  So  it's  the  'Lady  in 
Brown,'  "  he  thought,  "and  she  hasn't  flie  least  idea 
who  I  am — Wood  is  such  a  comfortable,  ordinary  name, 
and,  remember,  Jack,  you're  merely  the  representative 
of  some  unknown  Mrs.  Wood. 

"I  suppose  it's  a  philanthropic  enterprise,  and,  by 
George,"  lugubriously,  "suppose  the  butler  isn't  a  suc- 
cess? Well,"  with  a  long  sigh,  "I  imagine  I'm  in  for 
it,  even  though  I  have  him  on  my  hands  'till  the  end 
of  the  chapter.' 

"Ah,"  with  a  hasty  glance  at  his  watch;  "there 
isn't  more  than  just  time  to  meet  the  appointment!" 
and  having  maneuvered  his  way  skillfully  past  several 


THE    DAYSMAN  287 

acquaintances  who  tried  to  detain  him  in  the  hotel  lob- 
by, he  summoned  a  cab  and  was  gone. 

The  same  turbaned  Hindu  opened  the  door  who  had 
'assisted'  on  the  occasion  of  his  social  call  of  about  ten 
days  before,  but  this  morning,  John  Treverin  offered 
no  card  and  the  foreign  servant,  evidently  nettled  by 
the  omission,  gently  insinuated  with  a  polite  salaam 
that  Miss  Minturn  was  never  "at  home"  in  the  morn- 
ings. 

"Huenim,"  called  a  low  voice,  as  a  door  opened 
suddenly  somewhere  down  toward  the  far  end  of  a 
wide  hall,  "a — a —  someone  was  to  call  this  morning, 
by  special  appointment  at  te.n;  I  neglected  to  mention 
it,  but  when  he,  when  the  person  arrives,  you  may 
show  him  in  here.  Oh!"  The  impulsive  exclamation 
was  expressive  of  vexation  and  surprise.  It  was  evi- 
dent to  Treverin  that  the  speaker  had  not  realized  in 
her  eager  haste  that  the  servant  was  already  standing 
at  the  open  door. 

"But,  yes,  Madame,"  answered  the  Indian,  turning 
quickly,  "the  gentleman  hava  but  now  said  how  there 
is  an  appointment!" 

"Theseway,  please,  sir,"  turning  to  Jack  who,  a  mo- 
ment later,  was  being  shown  into  a  small  study  which 
impressed  him,  he  afterwards  said,  as  a  cross  between 
"m'  lady's  private  sitting  room  and  a  poet's  corner, 
a  sort  of  literary  apotheosis  of  a  boudoir." 

The  walls  were  lined  with  books  whose  bindings  were 
as  variegated  as  the  titles  that  ranged  all  the  way  from 
Beowulf  to  Swinburne  and  the  Jungle  Books.  Here 
Montesquieu's  "Spirit  of  Laws"  consorted  amicably 


2S8  THE    DAYSMAN 

with  Carlyle's  "French  Revolution"  and  "Chaucer" 
in  vellum,  hobnobbed  with  "Keats"  in  white  and  gold, 
while  Madame  de  Sevigne  crowded  De  Quincey  and 
Aeschylus  elbowed  Christopher  Marlowe.  Here  and 
there,  in  the  small  spaces  not  occupied  by  bookshelves, 
a  good  little  etching  or  a  choice  engraving  made  its 
presence  felt;  and  the  warm  ivory  tones  of  a  "Victory" 
on  its  low  pedestal  between  the  open  windows  held  the 
sunlight  which  filtered  through  soft  draperies  that  float- 
ed gently  in  the  morning  breeze. 

Carroll  Minturn  had  lingered  evidently  in  "Times 
Garden,"  and  as  the  bee  extracts  its  own  honeyed  es- 
sence from  many  a  flower,  so,  thought  John  Treverin, 
"this  room  represents,  no  doubt,  the  subtle  fragrance 
of  stored  memories  that  have  been  gathered  as  a  part  of 
the  simple  pleasure  of  wandering." 

He  smiled  inwardly,  however,  at  the  catholicity  of  a 
taste  which  could  enjoy  the  vigorous  lines  and  rugged 
force  of  Valasquez's  "Head  of  Aesop,"  and  yet  give 
so  prominent  a  place  to  the  ethereal  delicacy  and  in- 
tangible atmosphere  of  an  exquisite  copy  of  Corot'a 
"Spring." 

"I  suppose,"  was  his  mental  comment,  "that  this  is 
where  she  writes ! ' '  for  it  was  an  open  secret,  he  knew, 
that  'things  of  hers'  appeared  frequently  in  print  over 
a  name  which  she  had  acknowledged  only  to  a  few  in- 
timates. 

"Mrs.  Wood's  representative  indeed,"  thought  the 
girl,  as  her  eye  took  in  at  a  glance  a  general  impression 
of  Treverin."  Unquestionably  this  is  the  man  who  was 
given  that  impromptu  reception  in  the  rear  of  the 


THE    DAYSMAN  289 

Senate  Chamber  on  that  Tuesday  about  ten  days  ago 

when  I  was  in  the  gallery  with  Mrs.  S .  The  one 

whom  Clarence  described  as  Robert  Freeman's  grand- 
son. How  awkward  that  I  didn't  get  his  name!" 

"You  wished,"  she  began,  in  a  cool,  even  voice,  com- 
ing to  business  as  soon  as  she  had  uttered  a  formal 
"good-morning,"  and  had  invited  Treverin  to  be  seat- 
ed. "You  wished,  I  understand,  to  see  me  with  regard 
to  the  employment  of  a  butler?" 

"What  a  goose  I  was,"  she  thought,  with  sudden 
annoyance,  "not  to  let  Uncle  Harry  attend  to  this  ad- 
vertising. To  be  sure,  'Unc'  Manassah'  vowed  I  could 
do  it  better,"  and  her  face  softened  into  genuine  ten- 
derness at  the  sudden  pathetic  memory  of  the  faithful 
old  black,  "but  I  wish  Miss  Crimmins  (the  secretary) 
were  here.  I  haven't  an  idea  of  how  to  carry  the  thing 
through." 

"My  sister,"  he  replied,  with  grave  courtesy  and  ,i 
quiet  frankness  that  at  once  relieved  the  situation, 
"my  sister,  Mrs.  Wood,  whose  home  is  in  the  far  West, 
has  delegated  me  the  arduous  task  of  securing  a  com- 
petent butler." 

"You  have  found  it  difficult?"  she  asked  with  im- 
pulsive sympathy,  and  her  eyes  were  almost  merry. 

' '  It  seems  to  me, ' '  and  in  the  desperate  hope  of  main- 
taining this  delightful  personal  note,  he  deliberately 
and  without  qualm  purloined  the  fruit  of  his  sister's 
experience,  "the  most  stupendous  labor  that  was  ever 
imposed  upon  man." 

"Really,"  and  although  she  kept  her  voice  most 
pleasantly  impersonal  and  businesslike,  she  looked  as 


290  THE    DAYSMAN 

if  she  might  like  to  hear  some  of  his  interesting  experi- 
ences in  hunting  down  this  strange  quarry.  She  found 
it  difficult  to  remember  that  this  easy,  polished  man  of 
the  world,  who  might  be  pleasant  enough  to  know,  was, 
after  all,  simply  a  stranger  who  had  come  to  her  door 
in  response  to  an  advertisement. 

The  recollection  of  this  last  fact,  reminding  her  that 
one  must  be  particularly  cautious  when  treading  on 
unaccustomed  ground,  brought  her  back  sharply  to  the 
point  in  hand. 

"You  are  quite  sure  that  Mrs.  Wood  will  be  willing 
to  consider  a  black  butler — that  she  would  have  no  ob- 
jection to  his  color?  I  mean,"  she  explained  hastily, 
"a  man  might  not  understand,"  she  caught  the  glim- 
mer of  a  smile  about  John  Treverin's  mouth  and  her 
tone  became  intensely  practical  and  coldly  severe.  "A 
strange  element  sometimes  creates  friction  in  a  house- 
hold, and  it  is  often  exceedingly  difficult  to  preserve 
harmony  where  there  is  a  mixture  of  the  races." 

"I  think,"  he  rejoined  with  an  extreme  seriousness 
that  had  the  effect  of  lightening  her  own  deep  gravity, 
"that  it  would  be  possible  to  relieve  your  conscientious 
scruples  by  means  of  a  sentence  from  the  telegram  re- 
ceived from  Mrs.  "Wood  in  reply  to  mine  propounding 
just  that  question."  And  without  the  slightest  quiver 
of  a  smile,  he  read:  "Anything  that  is  honest  and  can 
serve  a  dinner,  gratefully  received." 

The  girl's  mouth  twitched  suspiciously,  but  she  main- 
tained the  heroic  solemnity  that  had  characterized  their 
conversation,  and  continued  with  a  calmness  that  he 
thought  adorable. 


THE    DAYSMAN  »1 

"The  next  questions  are,  of  course,  yours  and — on 
the  whole  I  think  that  it  would  be  far  better  for  you 
to  see  Uncle  Manassah,  alone  at  any  hour  which  you 
may  care  to  appoint. " 

The  man  looked  decidedly  disappointed.  "I'm 
afraid,"  he  demurred,  "that  I  shouldn't  know  exactly 
how  to  go  about  it." 

"Oh,  but  you  will,"  she  rejoined  with  decision.  "It 
will  all  come  quite  naturally  as  soon  as  you  get  started, 
and,  besides  Uncle  Manassah  will  tell  you  all  his  quali- 
fications without  any  urging.  He's  very  proud  of  the 
fact  that  the  key  to  my  uncle's  wine  cellar  has  lived 
'pummanently  on  his  pusson'  for  thirty-five  years." 

She  quoted  the  old  servant  so  gravely,  so  naturally, 
so  tenderly,  that  Treverin  realized  fully  how  uncon- 
sciously it  was  done. 

"And  if,"  she  continued  with  admirable  forethought, 
"you  want  any  further  recommendation,  after  talking 
with  Mannassah,  my  uncle,  Mr.  Carroll,  will  be  only 
too  happy  to  write  you  in  his  favor." 

"I  think  it  only  fair  to  tell  you,"  she  added  thought- 
fully, as  though  she  were  still  debating  the  question  in 
her  own  mind,  "that  Manassah  is  as  thoroughly  com- 
petent as  he  ever  was,  but  he  is  unhappy  here  since  the 
advent  of  the  English  servants.  My  uncle  would  have 
much  preferred  to  pension  him  for  the  rest  of  his  life, 
but  Manassah  declares  that  he  is  not  yet  ready  to  re- 
tire, that  he  wants  to  'die  in  de  ha 'ness,'  "  she  added 
with  a  half  smile,  "and  so  we  concluded  to  let  him 
try  a  change.  Of  course,"  she  added  gently,  "the  poor 


292  THE    DAYSMAN 

old  man  understands  that  he  can  always  look  to  Mr. 
Carroll  if  everything  else  should  fail. 

"It  seemed  to  me  only  right,"  she  continued  slowly, 
"that  your  sister  should  be  told  enough  of  his  history 
to  be  assured  that  'he's  honest  and  can  serve  a  dinner' 
— with  a  sudden  flash  of  a  smile,  "although  I'm 
afraid,"  with  sober  directness,  "that  it  has  involved 
giving  more  than  I  meant  of  our  own." 

"And  I  hope  you  will  allow  me,"  he  responded  earn- 
estly, as  he  rose,  "to  express  to  you,  in  behalf  of  my 
sister  as  well  as  of  myself,  a  very  sincere  appreciation 
of  your  courtesy  and  kindness." 

"Thank  you,"  she  answered  simply,  as  she  rang  the 
bell.  ' '  Ah,  I  had  almost  forgotten.  At  what  time  would 
you  like  us  to  send  Manassah,  and  to  what  address?" 
She  rather  hoped  he  would  give  her  his  name,  but  in- 
stead of  that  he  replied  quickly,  "You  are  very  good; 
to  the  same  address  as  that  given  in  my  note,  please, 
and  would  this  afternoon  at  three  be  as  convenient  as 
any  other  hour?" 

"Quite  as  convienient, "  she  rejoined,  "and  I  shall 
caution  him  to  be  prompt." 

"Thank  you,"  he  said  smiling,  as  a  servant  appeared 
to  show  him  out. 


THE    DAYSMAN  293 


CHAPTER   III. 

"O  Earth!  thou  hast  not  any  wind  that  blows 
Which  is  not  music;  every  weed  of  thine 
Pressed  rightly  flows  in  aromatic  wine; 

And  every  humble  hedgerow  flower  that  grows, 
And  every  little  brown  bird  that  doth  sing, 

Hath    something   greater    than    itself,    and   bears 
A  living  word  to  every  living  thing,    » 

Albeit  it  holds  the  message  unawares." 

TREVERIN,  who  had  left  word  that  the  old  negro  was 
to  be  sent  right  up,  was  alone  in  his  sitting-room,  at 
three. 

"Come  in!"  he  called  cheerfully,  after  the  first  repe- 
tition of  a  timid  knock,  and  looking  up  suddenly,  upon 
the  slow  turning  of  the  knob,  he  saw  a  white-haired 
black  man  of  uncertain  age  bowing  with  the  dignified 
stateliness  of  an  old-time  retainer. 

"Ah,"  exclaimed  Treverin,  pleasantly,  "this  is 
Uncle  Manassah,  I  imagine!" 

"Yes,  sah,"  beamed  the  old  man,  his  black  face  fairly 
radiating  his  pleasure  in  Treverin 's  easy  assumption 
of  the  adoptive  prefix  to  which  as  a  trusted  servitor 
of  a  more  patriarchal  era  he  felt  himself  entitled,  "an 
dey  done  tol  me  down  stars,  sah,  as  how  you  all  is 
Marse  John  Tre-Tre —  beg  yo  pahdon,  suh,  but  I  done 
fergit  de  res.  Miss  Ca'l  she  jes  writ  it  on  dis  yer  cahd 
an'  I  disremembah  whethuh  she  spoke  de  lettahs  er 
not." 


294  THE   DAYSMAN 

Jack  was  inclined  to  think  that  "Miss  Ca'l"  hadn't 
"spoke  de  lettahs,"  although  he  only  said  that  Uncle 
Manassah  needn't  bother  about  remembering  Treverin, 
since  it  wasn't  easy  as  names  went. 

"Miss  Minturn,"  he  proceeded  hastily,  anxious  to 
get  through  with  a  business  which  he  wasn't  at  all 
sure  he  understood,  "Miss  Minturn  has  told  me,  Uncle, 
that  you  think  of  making  a  change." 

"Yes,  sah,"  replied  the  old  man  quickly.  "You  see 
it's  dis  away.  Miss  Anne  she's  bown  fer  tu  try  expe'- 
ments  an'  it's  goin'  on  mo  nur  ten  yeahs  now  sence  de 
changin'  begun.  Fust  come  de  French  maids  an'  den 
de  Injun  footman  and  nex'  de  Talyun  gyardner  twell 
we-all  got  most  ernuff  er  dem  furriners  roun'  yer  now 
fer  tu  buil'  de  secun'  tower  uv  Babel.  An  long  hyar 
lately,  sence  coluhed  suhvants  done  gone  clean  outer 
fashun  in  Washington,  Miss  Anne  mus  hab  some  er  dese 
yere  tall  Englishman  stalkin'  roun'  de  premises  an' 
even  de  secon'  man  givin'  hisse'f  sech  airs  ez  no  well- 
born, se'f  respectin'  niggah  gwin  stan'. 

De  haid  footman  come,  ricommended,  he  say,  by  de 
Lawd  Himse'f — not  none  uv  dese  yere  purty  young  no- 
blemans  what  we  all  got  in  Washin'ton  payin'  dere 
'spects  to  Miss  Ca'l  an'  her  frien's.  No,  suh,  bress  yuh 
soul — but  hit  pears  lak  de  one  what  ricommended  our 
haid-footman  is  de  onliest  Lawd  on  yearth — de  ve'y 
bigges'  one  uv  all  what  ain't  come  outen  de  kingdom 
yit,  he  say.  But  sakes  er  live  Marse  John,  I  ain't  gwine 
b'lieve  de  Almighty  gwine  ter  discountenance  himself 
wid  such  low  down  white  trash,"  and  the  old  man 
sniffed  contemptuously. 


THE    DAYSMAN  295 

"So  dat's  huccome  I'se  seekin'  anur  place  fer  de 
secon'  time  in  my  life,  an'  Miss  Ca'l  an'  Marse  Harry 
low  dey  gwine  ter  hep  me  out!"  he  finished  senten- 
tiously. 

"But  are  you  willing,"  querried  Jack,  laughing,  "to 
go  as  far  West  as  Arizona?" 

"Marse  John,  scuse  me,  suh,  but  you  suttinly  does 
seem  mo  lak  we  all's  kin  uv  white  folks  dan  er  Yankee, 
an'  ef  you  don'  mine,  suh,  I  gwine  call  you  dat  away." 

"By  all  means,"  responded  Jack,  with  a  cordial 
smile,  for  already  he  had  conceived  a  genuine  liking 
for  the  old  black  who  had  succeeded  in  arousing  his  in- 
terest. 

"I  doan  reckon,  den,  dat  you  could  put  too  much 
country,  Marse  John,  'twixt  me  an'  dis  yere  trash 
what's  tu'nin  itse'f  out  to  service  in  de  Capital. 

"I  ain't  sayin',"  he  added  sadly,  "but  what  I'se 
gwine  be  pow'ful  lonesome  fer  Marse  Harry  en  spe- 
cially Miss  Ca'l.  Ain't  I  done  tote  er  in  dese  ahms 
when  she  wa'nt  mo'n  knee  high  ter  her  own  bay  mare." 

"You  belonged  in  Senator  Carroll's  family  before 
the  war?"  questioned  Treverin  with  sympathy. 

"Lawd  no,  Marse  John.  We 'all  des  dopted  one  nur- 
me  an'  Marse  Harry,  when  I  landed  in  New  Yawk  fum 
de  South  des  bout  thirty-five  yeahs  ago. 

"Ye  see,  Marse  John,  me  an'  Liza  was  mah'ed  en- 
durin'  de  wah.  It  was  de  las'  uv  de  big  doins  'mongst 
de  niggahs  down  at  ouh  place,  an'  ole  Miss  she  give  us 
ez  fine  a  send-off  ez  ef  de  hahd  times  wasn't  comin' 
mighty  fas'. 

"Ole  Marse  an'  young  Marse  Tom  was  off  fightin'  de 


296  THE    DAYSMAN 

? 

Yankees,  an'  not  long  arter  dat  dey  wuz  bofe  brung 
home  daid,  an'  ole  Miss  she  ain'  las'  much  longer. 

"Den  when  de  wah  was  ovah,  de  place,  what  wuz  lef 
uv  it  got  sole  off  fer  taxes  an'  me  an'  Liza  with  de 
yuther  niggahs  what  was  still  dere  wuz  tole  to  move  off 
outen  de  way;  an'  dat  day,"  added  the  old  man  sadly, 
"it  look  lak  de  wort'  gwine  een. 

"De  trouble  wuz,  ole  Marse,  he  lowed  I  ain't  gwine 
hab  strength  nuff  fer  wuk  in  de  fiels  an'  dat's  huccome 
I  done  larn  what  I  know  'bout  riverincin'  de  vintages. 

"Fer  yeahs,  Ole  Sambo,  de  butlah  up  at  de  gret 
house  what  hed  mek  Ole  Marse 's  juleps  fer  well  nigh 
fifty  summahs — wuz  trainin'  me  for  tu  tek  his  place. 
But  when  de  wah  wuz  ovah  an'  wealls  folks  was  daid 
an*  gone  an'  everybody  else  lef  too  pore  to  tek  on  any 
new  niggahs,  seem  lak  der  wasn't  room  no  mo'  fer  Liza 
an'  me." 

"Howsumevah,  on  de  evenin'  uv  dat  las'  day  I  walks 
up  tu  de  big  house  an'  sez  to  de  strangah  what  hed  got 
hole  uv  de  place : 

"  'See  yah,  suh,  ef  you'll  des  let  Liza  an'  de  baby — 
fo',  bress  yeh  life,  Marse  John,  by  dat  time  der  wuz  de 
beatenes'  little  pickininy  yo'  ever  see  croonin'  in  Liza's 
arms"  (and  his  dusky  face  was  alight  with  pride  and 
joy  as  he  recalled  the  romance  of  his  youth) — "ef  you'll 
des  let  Liza  an'  de  baby,'  sez  I,  'live  along  in  de  cabin, 
same  ez  befo,'  I'll  wuk  my  way  clean  up  to  de  Yankees 
an '  when  I  gets  one  ob  dem  places  what  a  gentimin  f  um 
de  No'th  done  tel  me  erbout,  I'se  gwine  sen  back  evy 
penny,  suh,  twell  de  cabin  b 'longs  tu  Liza  an'  me.' 

"Well,  dat  man  he  done  promise  an'  so  I  come  with 


THE   DAYSMAN  297 

Jettahs  ricommendin '  me  fum  frens  ob  ol'  Marse,  an' 
not  long  arter  reachin  New  Yawk  I  wuz  tuk  right  in 
by  Marse  Harry's  granpa  when  Marse  Harry  wuzn't 
much  mo'  nur  a  boy,  an'  dat's  huceome  I  been  wif 
Marse  Harry  eber  sence." 

"I  understand/'  said  the  young  man  gently,  "but 
are  you  very  sure,  Uncle,  that  you'll  be  satisfied  to 
leave  that  little  cabin — your  home  down  South.  Ari- 
zona's a  long  way  off,  you  know!" 

"Dey  ain't  no  mo'  cabin  dere,  now,  Marse  John," 
and  the  voice,  that  had  been  thrilling  but  a  moment 
before  with  the  buoyant  emotionalism  of  a  child-like 
race,  sounded  suddenly  lifeless  and  strangely  heavy. 

"Oh,"  exclaimed  John  Treverin,  in  quick  sympathy. 
"I'm  sorry." 

"Thankee,  Marse  John,"  but  the  voice  was  stilt 
singularly  lacking  in  hope. 

"You  see,  sah,"  he  went  on  slowly,  and  there  was 
the  lingering  shadow  of  a  tragedy  that  was  past  about 
the  deep  furrows  in  the  black  face,  "you  see,  Marse 
John,  it  happened  dis  away.  Arter  I  been  sen 'in  my 
money  to  dat  ar  strangah  fer  nigh  on  tu  ten  yeahs,  de 
lettah,  one  day,  come  back,  an'  when  I  axes  Marse 
Harry  to  'splain  it  to  me,  I  gin  telin'  him  de  whole 
story.  De  next  time  he  down  dat  away,  he  say,  he 
gwine  fer  to  look  de  mattah  up,  an'  fo'  de  Lawd,  Marse 
John,  ef  he  ain't  discivah  dat  dar  warn  no  cabin  ner 
no  mo'  Liza  nor  no  mo'  pickaniny  to  be  foun'  roun'  de 
place. 

"De  neighbahs  done  tell  him  dat  I  ain'  been  gone 
mo  'n  a  yeah  when  dat  man  drive  Liza  out  an  teah  down 


298  THE   DAYSMAN 

de  cabin  to  improve  de  proputy  so's  he  kin  sell  it  to 
some  rich  gentmuns  f'um  de  No'th,  an'  ez  fer  Liza, 
none  of  dem  know  whatever  become  uv  her  an'  de  baby 
on'y  'ceptin  dat  she  stahted  No'th  sayin'  she  gwine  fine 
M'nasah,  fer  suah. 

"Dat's  all,"  finished  the  old  man,  wearily,  "an*  we 
nevah  foun'  out  no  mo',  do  Marse  Harry  been  makin' 
all  de  enquirements  he  kin,  fer  yeahs." 

There  was  silence  between  the  two  men,  for  a  mo- 
ment, such  a  silence  as  might  have  marked  the  ringing 
down  of  the  curtain  upon  a  sad  little  drama  of  life. 

"It's  another  side  of  the  picture,"  said  Treverin 
slowly,  "one  of  the  sides  that  didn't  creep  into  the  in- 
spired vision  of  abolitionists.  Their  millennium  of  free- 
dom hardly  suggested  the  idea  that  they  were  merely 
giving  the  slave  a  right  to  inherit  his  own  bondage  of 
labor,  to  join  that  greater  army  of  individual  industrial 
servitude  that  chooses  sometimes — its  own  masters  and 
plans,  occasionally — its  own  life  of  toil." 

"Yas,  suh!"  replied  the  old  man,  ruminatively,  com- 
prehending none  of  the  fuller  significance  of  the  re- 
mark and  yet  "sensing"  vaguely  its  general  meaning. 
"Dat's  what  de  wah  been  en  done  fer  me.  In  slavery 
we  all's  black  folks  was  happy  an'  to  ger  wifout  none 
uv  dis  yer  scatterin'  what  comes  fom  evy  man  scratch- 
in'  fer  hissef.  Yes,  sah,  dats  why  ise  a  Dimocrat,  same 
ez  my  ole  Marse  down  dar  in  the  South.  Ain'  he  know 
what's  de  bes'  fer  his  niggahs  mo'  dan  ery  one  uv  dem 
evah  knowed  fer  hisse'f ? 

"An'  when  some  uv  dese  yeah  low  lifted  vote-ketch- 
ers  up  in  New  Yawk  tries  to  tell  me  'bout  de  wickedness 


THE    DAYSMAN  299 

uv  niggahs  bein'  sol'  I  jes  ups  an'  tells  dem  dat  dey's 
was  wickedness  goin'  on  evy  day  dan  bein'  sol'  f'om 
one  marster  dat's  'sponsible  fer  yer  does  an'  cabin  en 
food  to  anur  marster  what's  gwine  ter  look  out  fer  yo' 
boahed  an'  keep,  an'  dat  of  yer  hepless  chilens." 

"Which  shows  that  you  certainly  know  how  to  hold 
your  own  with  the  politicians,  Uncle  Manassah," 
laughed  Treverin. 

"I  think,"  he  added  smiling,  "that  we're  going  to 
suit  each  other  perfectly,  and  now  the  only  question  is 
whether  you  can  be  ready  by  Monday  to  go  with  me  out 
to  Arizona." 

"Suttinly,  Marse  John,  any  time  you  say.  Dat '11  gib 
me  jest  time  to  go  thro'  de  stock  wid  Marse  Harry. 
Cose,  sah,"  explained  the  old  man  proudly,  "de  Sena- 
tah  he's  allus  kep'  de  cellah-book — natchelly — sence  I 
ain't  much  in  de  writin'  line — but  many's  de  time  T 
heah  him  say  to  Marse  Charl :  '  M  'nassah  dar  is  de  ony 
one  au  courant  ob  de  valyuble  drinkables.  Dey  say  fig- 
gah's  don't  lie,  but  de  man  dat  meks  dem  sometimes 
does,  and  I'd  trus'  M 'nassah 's  mem'y  ahead  ob  mah 
own  figgahs  any  day.  Yo  couldn't  lose  track  ob  a  sin- 
gle bottle  ob  de  royal  brans  but  what  dat  ar  nlggaTi 
would  fine  it  out  some  way." 

"But,"  added  the  old  butler,  regretfully,  "de  cellahs 
ain'  what  de  wuz  fore  Miss  Anne's  doin's  ob  las'  Fall." 

"Indeed?"  and  the  inquiring  lift  of  Treverin 's  eye- 
brows inspired  Manassah  to  another  story. 

"Lawdy,  Marse  John,"  exclaimed  the  old  man  with 
a  reminiscent  smile,  "ain'  you  yeah  tell  'bout  dat?  De 
papahs  wuz  des  full  ob  it :  pokin '  fun  at  Miss  Anne  an ' 


300  THE    DAYSMAN 

dose  'Daughtahs  ob  Rebekah' — twel  I  yeah  Marse 
Harry  declah  dat  he  gwine  cyar  his  wimrain  folks  clean 
out  'n  de  kentry  an'  lock  'em  up  in  a  tyowah  ef  evah 
he  yeah  tell  ob  dere  actions  bringin'  'em  befoah  de  pub- 
lic agin  in  sech  a  way. 

"Marse  Harry,  he  suttinly  was  riled  dat  mawnin' 
when  Miss  Anne  telled  him  at  de  breakfas'  table  as 
how  she's  gwine  hab  a  meetin'  ob  dose  'Daughtahs'  at 
de  house  de  nex'  week  but  one  an'  how  endurin'  de 
ir.eetin'  dey's  gwine  hab  de  cellahs  emptied  clean  out 
intu  de  guttahs,  sence  dey's  all  come  to  de  conclusions 
as  wine  is  baid  fer  de  stumach,  de  haid  an'  de  soul. 

11  'Den  why,  my  deah,'  axes  Marse  Harry  in  dat 
awful  quiet  voice  like  he  uses  when  he's  tumble  riled 
— 'den  why,  my  deah,  sence  you've  got  so  fur  beyant 
Saint  Paul,  what  recomminded  wine  fur  de  stummick, 
an'  so  much  ahead  ob  de  Lawd  what  made  de  bes'  kine 
fer  a  weddin'  feas' — why,  my  deah.  cyarn  we  des  hab 
it  all  poahed  right  down  de  kitchen  drain  ? ' 

"  'But,  my  deah  Harry,'  respon's  Miss  Anne,  'dey 
ain't  no  kin'  ob  infloo'nce  in  doin'  it  dat  away!' 

"  'Oh,'  says  Marse  Harry,  'I  see,  but  sence  it's  de  in- 
floo'nce dat's  de  main'  pint,  how  about  exercisin'  it  wif 
a  double  magnum  ob  California  port!' 

"  'Dat  would  hahdly,  I  feah,  'complish  de  same  puh- 
pose, '  re jines  Miss  Anne  lookin '  kin '  ob  dowbtf ul ;  '  you 
see  de  Daughtahs  don't  often  git  de  chance  ob  in- 
floo'ncin'  wid  sich  ole  Madeiras  an'  Burgundys  cz 
yourn'. 

"  'I  begin  tu  unnerstan',  I  think,'  says  Marse  Harry, 
kin'  uv  thinkin',  'dese  yeah  Daughtahs  pear  tu  predate 


THE    DAYSMAN  301 

de  fac'  mighty  nigh  ez  well  ez  I  does  dat  des  yeah  wines 
has  been  puhchased  all  ovah  evywheres  an'  dat's  why 
dere  so  everlastin'  anxious  tuh  make  a  gran'  stan'  play 
wastin'  uv  um  at  my  expense.  Ah'm  'sprised,  Anne,  dat 
yo'  lows  yo'sef  to  be  kerried  away  in  sech  a  fashion.' 

"  'Harry,'  says  Miss  Anne,  awful  solemn  like,  'dis 
is  a  question  of  'victions,  my  deah. ' 

11  'Den  all  I  kin  say,'  'sponded  Marse  Harry,  'is  dat 
I  cyarn  see  no  reason  why  yoah  c'nvictions  need  to 
'stend  theirselves  ez  fur  ez  my  wine  eellahs. ' 

"  'Mah  deah,'  sez  Miss  Anne  'rarin'  up  her  haid 
kine  ob  rambunctious,  'dis  is  ouah  fust  disagreement 
foah  yeahs!' 

' '  Marse  Hariy  ain  't  mek  no  kine  ob  answer  to  dat  an ' 
dere  de  mattah  peared  like  it  wuz  gwine  een;  but  seen 
Miss  Ca'll  lookin'  across  de  table  at  her  uncle  blinkin' 
her  eyes  kindah  wise  an'  den  I  know  fo  suah  they's 
sumpin  gwine  fur  to  happen.  An'  fo'  Gord,  Marse 
John,  it  did  so,  fer  suah. 

"  'Unc  Manassah,'  sez  Miss  Ca'll,  'bout  five  o'clock 
dat  arternoon,  'you  gwine  be  needed  in  de  eellahs  dis 
cvenin';  bring  de  keys  an'  meet  me  by  de  doah  at  eight 
o'clock  sharp.' 

"Well,  suh,  Miss  Anne  she  done  gone  out  to  a  vege- 
tarian dinnah  at  de  house  ob  some  intimate  frien'  what 
Marse  Harry  got  'scused  fum  attendin',  count  ob  a  tur- 
rible  haid-ache,  what  laid  him  up  sence  six  o'clock;  but 
pears  like  dat  haid-ache  ain't  las'  ez  long  ez  he's  ex- 
pectin'  it  tuh  las',  foah,  bress  yo'  soul,  Marse  John,  dar 
wuz  Marse  Harry  en  Marse  Charl  (Miss  Call's  pa) 


302  THE    DAYSMAN 

an'  Miss  Ca'll  herse'f  al  start 'in'  at  de  cecllah  doah 
waitin'  foah  me  when  eight  o'clock  roll  'roun. 

"An  suah  ez  yuah  boahn,  Marse  John,  we  spent  mos' 
ob  dat  night  an'  ez  many  moah  ez  dey  kin'  steal  fom 
dey  yuthah  'gagements  fur  de  nex'  ten  days  fixin'  up 
de  famous  ole  vintages  fer  dat  ar  infloo'ence  meetnr  ou 
de  'Daughtahs'  an'  Miss  Anne. 

"Miss  Ca'll  she  done  de  pastin'  an'  patchin'  ob  de  la- 
bels, while  I  he'ped  Marse  Henry  do  de  mixin'  an' 
po'in,  fer  we'se  got  tuh  get  de  colahs  jes'  so  fer  feah 
some  ob  dem  Daughtahs  know  too  much  ter  git  fooled; 
sides  Miss  Anne  herse'f — she  knows  right  smart  'bout 
wines  fer  a  ooman.  She  done  wrote  a  book  once  tellin' 
de  young  ladies  what's  jest  got  mah'd  how  de  sarvin' 
should  be  done  an '  all  'bout  de  mixin '  uv  dese  yeah  out- 
landish cocktails.  Since  she  jined  de  'Daughtahs' 
Marse  Charl,  he  done  tease  her  monstrous  'bout  dat  er 
book  twell  she  bleeged  ter  say  dat  she — she  mos'  gwine 
plum  crazy  dat  she  evah  writ  it. 

"Well,  ez  I  jes'  bin'  sayin',  sah,  Marse  Harry  an'  me 
done  de  po'in'  an  Marse  Charl  he  tended  to  de  corks  an' 
fo  de  Lawd,  sah,  when  we  done  got  through  you  could 'nt 
a  tole  dem  battles  uv  po'  wine  fum  de  real  thing  no- 
how— eben  down  tu  de  dus'  an'  de  cobwebs. 

"Den,  Marse  Harry,  he  des  shipped  mos'  uv  de  real 
genuine  impoahted  wines  an'  rare  ole  brans  what  been 
stoahed  in  his  grandf athah 's  cellahs  foah  yeahs  down 
to  Marse  Charl's  place  in  de  South,  'whar,'  sez  he,  win- 
kin'  at  Miss  Ca'll  kin  uv  slow,  'we'se  gwine  drink  de 
bride's  health  wif  de  real  ahticle  when  you  decides  tuh 
git  mah'd,  mah  deah!'  " 


THE    DAYSMAN  303 

"And  how  about  the  'Daughters  of  Rebekah?'  asked 
John,  laughing  heartily.  "Were  they  ever  any  the 
wiser?" 

"Shoh,  Marse  John!"  And  the  face  of  Uncle  Manas- 
sah  puckered  itself  into  a  thousand  tiny  wrinkles  as  he 
shook  with  silent  laughter.  "Dey  done  poah  out  all  dat 
ar  cheap  wine  des  ez  rambunctious  ez  you  please  an' 
de  papahs  somehow  got  hoi'  ob  de  fac'  an'  begun 
boastin'  ob  how  de  vey  guttahs  was  runnin'  liquid  gol' 
down  des  yeah  streets  to  de  Potomac  an'  ez  how  de 
niggahs  ob  Washington  wuz  drinkin'  de  health  ob  de 
'Daughtahs  ob  Rebekah'  at  Marse  Harry's  expense. 

"Ah  reckon,"  and  this  time  he  laughed,  softly,  the 
rich,  mellow  laugh  of  his  race,  "ah  reckon,  Marse  John, 
dat  dey  all  done  fergit  how  de  real  Bible  Rebeckah  was 
plum  satisfied  wif  a  well  uv  watah  stid  uv  tryin'  fer 
tub.  do  her  infloo-ncin'  wif  wastin'  impoahted  wine." 


304  THE    DAYSMAN 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"Though  now  he  flies,  ere  long  he  shall  pursue  thee; 
Fearing  thy  gifts,  he,  too,  in  turn  shall  bring  them; 
Loveless  to-day,  to-morrow  he  shall  woo  thee, 

Though  thou  shouldst  spurn  him." 
— Sappho's  Hymn  to  Aphrodite. 

THERE  was  a  reception  at  one  of  the  embassies — a 
comparatively  small  affair  and  certainly  as  exclusive  as 
a  legation  "at  home"  could  be.  The  majority  of  the  dip- 
lomatic circle,  some  personal  friends  of  the  host  and 
hostess  from  resident  and  official  society  and  a  few  out 
of  town  guests  made  up  the  number  that  filled  its  spa- 
cious drawing  rooms  without  overcrowding. 

"The  decorations  are  unusually  attractive,"  re- 
marked one  woman  to  a  friend. 

"Indeed,  yes!"  was  the  quick  response,"  and  so  are 
the  gowns.  Ah,"  raising  her  lorgnette,"  that's  a  lovely 
thing  Carroll  Minturn  is  wearing!" 

"Yes,  isn't  it?  She's  awfully  distingue  in  black. 
I  suppose  its  because  of  the  striking  contrast  with  the 
vivid  gold  of  her  hair.  By  the  way,  have  you  heard 
anything  further  about  her  engagement  since  that  re- 
port of  two  weeks  ago?" 

"Nothing,"  replied  the  other,  shortly,  "and  she's 
the  kind  of  person  one  wouldn't  care  to  ask  about  it 
even  though  one  had  known  her  for  years!"  The 
speaker's  voice  had  a  shade  of  reminiscent  bitterness 


THE    DAYSMAN  305 

about  it  that  was  suggestive  of  her  having  made  the 
trial. 

"Yes,"  rejoined  her  companion,  sympathetically, 
"Carroll  can  be  decidedly  unapproachable!  But, 
really,  do  you  know,  I  should  be  rather  surprised  at 
her  engaging  herself  to  Beverly,  even  granting  that  he 
is  one  of  the  most  interesting  of  the  Senatorial  eligi- 
bies,  she  could  have  done  ever  so  much  better  financially 
and  in  every  other  way,  for  that  matter." 

"Money  hardly  counts,  I  imagine,"  rejoined  the 
other,  "since  it's  pretty  generally  conceded  that  she'Jl 
inherit  Senator  Carroll's  millions.  Ah,  who  is  that 
talking  with  the  Baroness?" 

"That,  oh  that's  young  Treverin  of  New  York — Rob- 
ert Freeman's  grandson — he's  been  spending  a  good 
deal  of  time  in  Washington  lately,  and  Charles  say* 
(strictly  entre  nous,  of  course)  that  he's  a  man  to 
be  reckoned  with  down  at  the  Capitol." 

"Indeed!"  looking  more  closely.  "Decidedly  fine 
looking,  but  he  doesn't  have  the  air  of  a  managing  poli- 
tician nor  that  of  a  lobbyist,  my  dear." 

"He  doesn't  belong  to  either  type,  I  fancy;  'it's  the 
n?an  distinctly  outside  the  ring,'  Charles  says,  who 
really  does  things  these  days." 

"Or,  at  least,  it's  his  money  that  pulls  the  wires 
which  keeps  the  show  moving,  inside ! ' ' 

"Sh!"  exclaimed  the  other,  tragically.  "We're  ac- 
tually verging  on  politics — taboo— anywhere  but  in 
Washington — heavens!"  and  she  raised  her  eyes  in 
mock  dismay. 

"That  reminds  me,"  ventured  her  companion,  "of 


306  THE   DAYSMAN 

Bobby  Travers'  latest  bon  mot.  Some  one  was  telling  a 
good  story  on  a  Western  Senator,  whose  gratuitous  sup- 
port of  his  constituents  at  a  dinner  rather  amused  the 
other  guests.  'Yes,'  laughed  Travers,  'sometimes  we 
imagine  that  we've  succeeded  pretty  well  in  excluding 
the  skeleton  from  the  family  bouquet,  but  now  and 
then  some  one  pops  up  with  the  comforting  assurance 
that  "we  all  know  it's  there."  '  " 

"Jolly!"  exclaimed  the  other  laughing;  "I  hear 
Bobby  Travers  is  going  to  be  given  a  pretty  good  berth 
somewhere.  Was  it  Madrid?.  I've  forgotten." 

"I  hadn't  heard,  but  you  know  he  has  been  rusticat- 
ing in  the  West,  I  understand,  has  recently  married 
some  beauty  out  there  and  intends  taking  her  directly 
abroad.  She  created  quite  a  furore  of  admiration  in 
New  York,  I  believe,  but  we're  not  to  see  her  in  Wash- 
ington, this  season,  as  Bobby  only  runs  over  for  a  day 
occasionally,  on  business." 

"Ah,  I  remember  hearing  about  it.  The  girl  was  a 
daughter  of  that  eccentric  Paul  Swanson,  who  married 
some  beautiful  woman  with  mysteriously  great  connec- 
tions— abroad,  wasn't  it?" 

"I  don't  think  anybody  ever  knew  the  details,  but 
people  said  she  was  a  bona  fide  princess  whom  Paul 
Swanson  met  during  some  of  his  world  wanderings.  At 
any  rate,  I  remember  that  she  died  when  they  had  been 
married  little  more  than  a  year,  leaving  a  daughter." 

"Well,  this  is  the  girl.  She  was  reared  in  a  French 
Convent,  and  when  she  was  sixteen  her  father  brought 
her  to  America  and  took  her  West,  where  Bobby  Tra- 


THE   DAYSMAN  307 

vers  met  her.  Delightfully  romantic,  isn't  it?  There's 
a  whole  story  in  the  idea." 

"Yes,"  drawled  the  other,  "but  Bobby  Travers  was 
always  so  intensely  practical  that  it's  hard  to  imagine 
him  going  in  for  idylls  and  things  of  that  sort!  Ah, 
here  comes  Charles  and  we  must  be  off." 

John  Treverin,  in  the  meantime,  who  had  caught 
sight  of  Miss  Minturn  and  her  uncle  as  soon  as  he  en- 
tered the  door  had  been  endeavoring  to  reach  them  by 
a  somewhat  slow  and  interrupted  progress  down  the 
entire  length  of  the  rooms. 

During  the  interval  the  girl  herself  had  become  aware 
of  his  presence,  had  realized  instinctively  that  he  was 
coming  directly  toward  them  and  while  waiting,  rather 
curiously,  to  see  what  form  his  next  move  would  take, 
her  own  interest  was  unconsciously  quickened. 

Features,  clear-cut  and  well-defined,  a  determined 
nose — fine  grey  eyes  that  looked  out  at  one  directly,  a 
high  forhead,  from  which  a  mass  of  rich,  dark  hair 
(worn  neither  long  nor  too  closely  cropt)  swept  up- 
ward, adding  a  touch  of  the  original  to  a  clean-shaven 
face  of  marked  distinction — such  was  a  first  impression 
of  John  Treverin,  at  thirty-five. 

There  was  still  about  him  the  air  of  alert  intelligence, 
of  indomitable  force  and  will-power  that  had  charac- 
terized the  boy,  but  one  realized  in  the  man  a  concen- 
tration of  those  abounding  energies,  that  had  developed 
a  new  faculty  for  organization  which  had  not  been 
present  in  the  youth.  It  was  not,  perhaps,  that  he  had 
changed  so  much  as  that  his  nature  had  expanded  and 
unfolded  through  the  broadening  and  deepening  pro- 


308  THE   DAYSMAN 

cesses  of  time.  If  one  missed  the  fire  of  his  old  enthu- 
siasm for  the  ideal,  one  felt  that  its  place  had  been 
taken  by  that  singleness  of  purpose  through  which 
alone  greatness  is  achieved  and,  paradoxical  as  it  might 
seem,  out  of  the  success  of  material  enterprise  the  man 
had  awakened,  at  last,  to  the  full  realization  of  his 
boyhood's  dream. 

By  means  of  money,  as  the  mightiest  force  of  his 
time,  he  had  come  to  be  a  controlling  power  in  his  age, 
a  potent  factor  in  his  generation,  and  yet  by  a  peculiar 
combination  of  training  and  native  endowments  he  had 
not  lost  his  own  finer  sense  of  relative  values.  A  keen 
appreciation  of  the  proportionate  significance  of  wealth 
certain  high-bred  contempt  for  the  emoluments  of  his 
position, 
in  the  manipulation  of  men  had  not  robbed  him  of  3 

He  had  still  the  gift  of  inspiring  the  affectionate 
fealty  of  his  subordinates,  and  he  had  not  become  in- 
capable of  loyalty  to  his  friends.  It  was  said  of  him 
by  men  who  had  reason  to  know  his  methods  that  ho 
was  as  "instinctively  square"  as  he  was  "constitution- 
ally unable  to  plot  or  to  work  in  the  dark,"  that, 
"while  elevated  sentiments  were  not  in  his  line,  his 
'business  morals'  were  above  the  average — the  out- 
growth of  a  certain  manly  code  of  his  own  which  made 
even  his  enemies  acknowledge  that,  'he  wouldn't  lie,  he 
wouldn't  sell,  and  he  wouldn't  betray  a  friend.'  " 

Such  was  the  man  who  had  been  making  his  inter- 
rupted way  down  the  long  drawing  rooms  and  had 
come  at  last  to  the  corner  where  Carroll  Minturn  WHS 
holding  court. 


THE    DAYSMAN  309 

" Senator  Carroll,  I  believe!"  with  a  note  of  inquiry, 
as  he  bowed  in  front  of  that  gentleman,  and  then,  with- 
out waiting  for  other  reply  than  the  receptive  smile  of 
the  older  man  he  went  on  quickly :  "My  name  is  Trev- 
erin  and  I  had  the  misfortune  to  miss  you,  sir,  when 
you  called  at  my  hotel." 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  Senator  Carroll,  cordially  as  he 
extended  his  hand,  "we  have  been  mutually  unfortu- 
nate, Mr.  Treverin!  Your  father,  my  dear  sir,  was  a 
very  old  friend  of  mine,  and — but  pardon  me,  I  want 
the  pleasure  of  presenting  you  to  my  niece,  Miss  Min- 
turn.  Carroll,  my  dear,  allow  me  to  introduce  Mr. 
Treverin. ' ' 

At  the  first  mention  of  his  name  the  girl's  face  light- 
ed up  with  the  quick  flash  of  a  warm  smile. 

"It  can't  be,"  she  exclaimed  cordially,  "it  can't, 
really,  be  possible  that  you're  Elizabeth  Treverin 's 
brother!" 

"But  I'm  more  than  glad  to  be  able  to  assure  yon, 
Miss  Minturn,"  he  rejoined  laughing,  "that  I  am,  ac- 
tually, he  and "  with  a  quick  tact  that  won  her  in- 
stant personal  liking,  he  detached  the  enthusiasm  of 
her  greeting  from  any  connection  with  himself,  and 
placed  it,  at  once,  where  he  knew  it  belonged — "I 
should  certainly  begin  to  realize,  if  I  never  had  before, 
a  lucky  choice  in  the  relationship." 

"I  can't  imagine,"  she  responded  impulsively,  "any- 
thing more  delightful  than  to  have  Elizabeth  Treverin 
for  a  sister." 

"There  are  ways,"  he  answered,  with  a  swift,  humor- 


310  THE   DAYSMAN 

daring,  "that  it  might  be  managed,  even  yet,  if  you 
really  cared  to  try." 

"Really,  Mr.  Treverin,"  and  she  smiled  in  instant 
appreciation  of  his  very  obvious  point,  "I  might  have 
spared  you  the  necessity  of  that  gallant  charge!  What 
1  meant  to  say  was  that  your  sister  was  one  of  the  dear- 
est friends  of  my  childhood." 

"She  has  spoken,"  he  answered,  smiling,  "delight- 
fully of  you." 

"Ah,"  with  evident  pleasure,  "she  hasn't  forgotten, 
then,  the  old  days  at  Soeur  Madeleine's!" 

"She  seemed  to  remember,  especially,"  with  a  quiz- 
zical smile,  "something  connected  with  a  'prancing 
charger.'  ' 

She  laughed  at  that ;  a  low  musical  laugh  whose  tim- 
bre appealed  to  him  as  particularly  sweet. 

"Elizabeth  used  to  make  such  famous  fairy  tales 
'right  out  of  her  head. '  Her  plots  were  splendid,  and, ' ' 
with  a  twinkle,  "she  did  know  how  to  paint  a  prince! 
They're  always  rather  sketchily  drawn,  you  know,  in 
the  fairy-books — almost,"  with  a  demure  smile,  "as  un- 
satisfactory as  one  finds  them,  later,  in  real  life. 

"But,  tell  me,  Mr.  Treverin,  I  am  only  just  getting 
ir.-y  bearings — is  Eliazbeth?  Why,  of  course,  she  must 
be — Mrs.  Wood!  I  remember  now,  Aunt  Anne  wrote 
of  her,  by  that  name,  last  winter,  when  I  was  away.  My 
family  saw  something  of  her  while  she  was  in  Wash- 
ington. 

"The  mystery  is  beginning  to  unravel  itself,  at  last, 
and  no  doubt  before  very  long,"  archily,  "I'll  have 
placed  'Mrs,  Wood's  representative'  and — "  with  sud- 


THE   DAYSMAN  311 

den  interest,  as  the  fact  dawned  upon  her  mind,  "you 
wanted  Unc  M'nassah  for  Elizabeth!" 

"You  have  searched  me  to  my  inmost  soul,"  he 
laughed,  shrugging  his  shoulders  good-humoredly. 

"Won't  you  tell  me,"  she  began,  with  a  wicked  little 
smile,  "about  your  arduous  labors  in  butler-hunting?" 

"The  tale  would  be  too  long  in  the  telling  for  to- 
night," he  rejoined  quickly,  as  he  saw  that  he  could  no 
longer  expect  to  monopolize  her  conversation,  "but  I 
should  like  to  see  you  sometimes,  if  I  may?" 
should  like  to  see  you  sometimes,  if  I  may?" 

He  put  it  in  the  form  of  a  question  in  order  that 
she  might  not  evade  a  direct  answer. 

"My  days  are  rather  busy  and  the  evenings  are  al- 
ways full,  but "  she  paused,  tentatively  and  he 

wondered  if  she  were  considering  Beverly's  rights. 

"My  dear,"  interrupted  Senator  Carroll's  voice, 
"you  asked  me  to  remind  you,  at  ten,  that  you  had 
another  engagement." 

"Thank  you,  Uncle  Harry.  It  is  Anna  Harrington's 
dance;  I  promised  to  run  over  for  a  little  while,"  she 
explained  briefly. 

"Could  you  manage  without  me,  I  wonder,"  he  be- 
gan, apologetically;  "I'm  just  in  the  midst  of  a  most 
interesting  discussion  about  the  authenticity  of  that 
little  Venetian  piece  that  is  for  sale  as  a  Whistler 
down  town.  The  General  says " 

"Certainly,  I  shall  do  without  you,"  she  interrupted 
laughing.  "Mr.  Treverin,  no  doubt,  will  be  good 
enough  to  put  me  in  the  carriage  where  I  shall  find 
Marie  awaiting  me  with  an  extra  wrap,  as  usual,  and 


312  THE   DAYSMAN 

so "  graciously  (for  Treverin's  quick  'delighted' 

h?d  set  the  seal  on  her  plan)  "au  revoir,  Uncle  Harry; 
you  and  the  General  may  decide  the  fate  of  the  Whist- 
ler betwen  you." 

"I  should  like  to  tell  you,  sometime,"  Treverin  in- 
sinuated temptingly,  as  they  stood  waiting  for  her  car- 
riage, "the  delightful  ending  of  Uncle  Manassah's  ro- 
mance." 

"You  don't  mean,"  she  exclaimed  eagerly,  turning 
npon  him  with  shining  eyes,  "you  can't  mean  that  he 
has  found  Liza  and  the  pickaniny,  at  last!" 

"It  appears  that  Liza" — she  noticed  that  his  voice 
was  low  and  peculiarly  sympathetic" — "it  appears 
that  Liza  turned  up  in  New  York  about  thirty-six  years 
ago  and  became  my  mother's  maid.  That  is  how  she 
happened  to  go  to  Arizona,  and  isjwdth  my  sister  still." 

"How  glorious,"  she  exclaimed  joyously,  and  anx- 
iously ,  "the  pickaniny?" 

"The  pickaniny,"  he  answered  with  grave  sympathy, 
"died  before  Liza  reached  New  York." 

"Oh!  I  am  sorry,"  she  breathed  softly.  "You  must 
tell  me  all  about  it,  sometime." 

"I  should  like  to  and — how  soon  may  I  call?"  he 
nsked  eagerly,  for  he  had  no  intention  of  losing  the 
point  of  vantage. 

"I  have  just  remembered,"  she  replied  gravely, 
"that  I  have  a  free  hour  on  Thursday,  at  four." 

"It  was  good  of  you  to  remember,"  he  replied  with 
evident  pleasure. 

"Something,"  she  responded,  smiling,  "something, 
don't  you  think,  is  due  Elizabeth's  brother — not  to 


THE    DAYSMAN  313 

mention  the  fact,"  she  added  roguishly,  as  the  carriage 
drew  up,  "that  you  have  a  story  to  tell  which  I'm  more 
than  anxious  to  hear." 

With  which  rather  unsatisfactory  explanation  she 
nodded  a  smiling  good  night. 

"Ah,  Madmoiselle ! "  exclaimed  her  maid  excitedly, 
as  they  drove  away,  ' '  eet  ees  ze  same ;  I  haf  naiver  for- 
got zoze  eyes — how  ze  have  gleam  in  ze  moonlight!" 

"What  can  you  mean,  Marie?"  asked  Miss  Minturn 
in  quick  apprehension,  fearing  that  the  maid  had  gone 
suddenly  mad. 

"Haf  you  not  remember,"  she  demanded  incoher- 
ently, "ze  hold-up  on  ze  desert — ze  cruel  sauvage — ze 
pistols  an '  ze  hold-up  on  ze  desert — ze  cruel  sauvage — ze 
you  not  remember,  ze  young  man,  so  cool,  so  brave,  so 
strong,  who  haf  come  to  ze  rescue  of  Madmoiselle?" 

"You  mean,"  asked  Carroll  eagerly,  "that  Mr.  Trev- 
erin,  this  man  whom  we  have  just  left,  was — is — he?" 

"Eet  eez  ze  face  which  I  haf  naiver  forgot,"  replied 
the  girl  with  a  solemn  earnestness  that  was  quite  con- 
vincing, "like  ze  face  of  un  angel,  so  fierce,  and  young 
as  ze  face  in  ze  picture  over  Madmoiselle ?s  escritoire." 

"You  are  most  confusing,  Marie,  sighed  the  girl,  as 
she  leaned  back  among  the  cushions  and  closed  her  eyes 
for  the  purpose  of  thinking  it  over.  "What  can  you 
possibly  see  in  Mr.  Treverin  to  make  you  think  of  'St. 
George  and  the  Dragon'?" 

"Eet  eez  ze  face,  Madmoiselle,"  persisted  the  maid 
gravely  as  she  relapsed  into  silence." 

"He  was  probably  diffident  about  receiving  praise!" 
thought  the  girl,  slowly,  "one  can  see  that  he  isn't  ego- 


314  THE   DAYSMAN 

tistical  or  vain  and — her  mind  flew  off  at  another  tan- 
gent, "I  see  now  why  I  couldn't  place  him  from  Clar- 
ence's description.  Elizabeth  never  happened  to  men- 
tion the  name  of  her  grandfather. 

"But  how  he  did  fly!"  she  murmured,  smiling  as 
memory  reverted  again  to  that  far-away  scene  on  a 
moonlit  desert. 

"I  must  ask  him  some  day  about  Arizona.  And  I 
always  thought — "  was  there  a  lingering  regret  in  her 
mind? — "I  always  used  to  think  that  I  should  so  like 
to  know  that  man!" 


THE    DAYSMAN  315 


CHAPTER  V. 

"The  perception  of  a  resemblance  is  often  merely  a  failure 
to  see  differences." 

MIDSUMMER  found  Senator  Minturn  and  his  daugh- 
ter at  home  on  a  small  plantation  that  lay  along  the 
banks  of  a  famous  old  river  in  the  South. 

It  was  upon  this  tiny  strip  of  land — all  that  was  left 
him  of  an  ancient  patrimony — that  he  spent  most  of 
his  time  between  sessions  of  Congress,  alone  usually 
with  the  child  whose  intuitive  understanding  of  his 
temperament  had  made  her  the  dearest  companion  of 
his  solitude  and  the  very  light  of  his  eyes. 

Was  it  not  she  who  had  recalled  him  from  the  un- 
profitable pursuit  of  a  fortune  which  he  could  never 
have  achieved  to  the  wholesome  realities  of  a  life  which 
began  to  be  satisfying  as  soon  as  he  had  conquered  the 
abnormal  appetite  for  power  which  had  been  born  of 
the  craving  of  his  insatiable  ambition?  Was  it  not  here 
— in  this  quiet  little  nook,  in  an  out-of-the-way  corner 
of  the  world — that  he  had  found  again  the  heritage  of 
his  fathers?  Having  once  more  learned  "as  a  little 
child"  to  place  a  truer  estimate  upon  fame,  he  had 
come  naturally  into  the  fulness  of  his  birthright  and 
that  honor  which  is  "rather  to  be  chosen  than  great 
riches"  was  at  last  sufficient,  even  for  him. 

He  loved  the  old  place  as  he  loved  no  other  spot  on 


316  THE   DAYSMAN 

earth  for  it  was  to  him  typical.  Its  atmosphere 
fraught  with  the  subtle  charm  of  an  era  that  was  past, 
of  a  day  that  was  dead,  was  permeated  anew  with  the 
vital  freshness  of  his  daughter's  womanhood  which 
breathed  the  incarnate  spirit  of  a  living  present. 

She  seemed  to  him  never  so  lovely  as  in  this  simple 
environment  where  the  rarer  qualities  of  her  unfolding 
nature  were  brought  more  conspicuously  into  play  and, 
as  the  translucent  lights  of  a  gem  of  the  first  water  are 
enhanced  sometimes  by  the  very  absence  of  that  setting 
v/hich  may  be  needed  to  bring  out  the  excellencies  of 
jewels  of  lesser  worth,  so,  he  imagined,  would  her  char- 
acter find  its  broadest  development,  its  fullest  expan- 
sion and  its  highest  expression — here.  For  he  had 
come,  at  last,  to  realize  that  the  supreme  triumph  of 
Nature  consists  in  the  fact  that  even  the  process  of 
ripening  cannot  rob  her  fruit  of  its  bloom  while  the 
poverty  of  Success  is  its  inability  to  preserve  intrinsic 
values  of  which  it  is  robbed  by  the  very  wealth  that 
creates  its  artificial  standards. 

The  day  was  warm  and  from  where  he  sat  in  the  cool 
shade  of  the  wide  gallery,  he  had  just  seen  a  steamer 
fro  by  leaving  in  its  wake  a  clamoring  horde  of  noisy 
ripples  that  disturbed  the  peaceful  calm  of  the  river. 
Its  passing  presaged  news  from  the  outer  world  and 
the  doubtful  pleasures  of  mail.  Ah  there  was  Car- 
roll now,  coming  across  the  lawn,  her  arms  overflowing 
with  papers  and  her  hands  quite  full  of  letters.  He 
rose  and  went  to  meet  her  as  she  came  up  the  steps. 
I  do  need  you,  dearest,"  and  she 


THE   DAYSMAN  317 

an  acknowledgment   of   his    timely    assistance    as    she 
dropped  into  a  chair. 

"Those  are  yours  and  here  are  mine  and — we'll  let 
the  papers  go."  She  sorted  out  quickly  a  bundle  of  en- 
velopes and  pressed  them  into  his  unwilling  hands,  but 
when,  fifteen  minutes  later  she  looked  up  from  the  pe- 
rusal of  her  own  goodly  store  she  found  him  leaning 
back  in  his  chair,  his  letters  still  unopened  while  he 
watched  her  dreamily. 

"Do  you  know,  dearest,"  she  asked,  shaking  her 
head  at  him,  playfully,  "such  a  lack  of  interest  is 
shocking,"  and,  taking  the  envelopes  from  his  hand,  she 
began  skillfully  to  open  them  with  a  tiny  ivory  cutter 
that  she  carried  in  her  hair. 

"The  competent,  businesslike  method  with  which  you 
get  over  your  own  troubles  has  filled  your  father  with 
envy,"  he  replied  smiling. 

"Yes,  read  them  to  me,  please,"  he  added  in  answer 
to  her  inquiring  eyes,  "the  music  of  your  voice  may 
make  their  discord  sweet  and  besides  I  have  forgotten 
my  glasses." 

"As  though  you  needed  them  except  by  way  of  ex- 
cuse!" but  without  demurring  further  she  began  to 
read  his  mail  aloud.  She  had  a  quick  intuitive  under- 
standing of  the  political  and  business  problems  upon 
which  the  letters  touched  and  her  comments  amused 
him  almost  as  much  as  the  letters  themselves  bored 
him. 

"This,"  she  said,  finally,  "is  the  last — a  mere  note 
— rather  short,"  then,  with  a  little  start  of  surprise, 


318  THE   DAYSMAN 

"it's  from  Mr.  Treverin,"  and  she  read,  rather  more 
slowly  than  usual: 

' '  My  dear  Senator  Minturn : — As  I  am  to  be  in - 

on  the  sixteenth  and  am  anxious  to  consult  you,  on 
business,  of  a  private  and  personal  nature,  may  I  not 
hope  for  an  appointment — even  though  I  am  well  aware 
of  my  temerity  in  thus  encroaching  upon  your  inti- 
mate privacy  at  this  season  of  the  year? 

"Trusting  that  you  will  pardon  me  for  breaking  so 
ruthlessly  in  upon  your  rest  and  with  kindest  remem- 
brances to  your  daughter,  believe  me, 

"Most  sincerely  yours, 

"JOHN  TREVERIN." 

"It  sounds  rather  mysterious,"  commented  the  girl, 
wonderingly.  "Do  you  suppose  it's  some  new  move  on 
the  statehood  question  or — "  she  knew  that  as  yet  there 
was  no  other  vital  interest  which  the  two  men  held  in 
common. 

"  'Personal  and  private,'  sounds  a  trifle  impressive 
even  for  statehood,  daughter,"  and  he  smiled  indul- 
gently; "however,"  with  the  ready  hospitality  of  his 
race,  "I  shall  ask  him  over  for  a  few  days,  of  course, 
and,"  as  he  rose,  "it  will  be  necessary  to  write  at 
once;  tomorrow  is  the  sixteenth.  No  doubt,  Sambo 
can  be  spared  to  ride  over  this  afternoon  and  leave  a 
note  at  his  hotel."  There  was  a  question  in  his  voice 
to  which  she  assented  rather  absently  as  he  went  into 
the  house  and  left  her  alone  in  the  wide  gallery,  gath- 
ering up  her  mail. 

Three   of  the  letters  were  from   Beverly.     He  was 


THE   DAYSMAN  319 

very  exact,  almost  punctiluous  in  his  observance  of  the 
outward  forms  of  sentiment  and  wrote  to  her  daily  of 
his  hopes,  his  aims,  his  plans.  Sometimes  she  almost 
wished  that  he  were  less  tiresomely  verbose  in  his  elab- 
orate self-explanations.  What  was  it,  after  all,  that 
had  induced  her  to  even  consider  marrying  this  man 
in  whom  she  found  so  much  to  criticize? 

Prom  the  first  she  had  been  honest  with  herself  and 
with  him.  She  had  confessed  frankly  that  her  ideas 
of  marriage  were  distinctly  modern  and  eminently 
practical;  that  she  entirely  eliminated  the  question  of 
that  old-fashioned  sentiment  called  love  because  in  her 
estimation  the  safest  basis  upon  which  to  found  any 
human  relationship  was  that  of  a  complete  and  thor- 
ough understanding.  Understanding  insured  eternal 
friendship,  and  friendship  ruled  out  friction  and  main- 
tained the  equilibrium  of  that  intellectual  intercourse 
which  was  the  foundation  principle  of  all  genuine  com- 
panionship. Had  not  Ruskin  expressed  the  idea  per- 
fectly in  a  letter  to  Bosetti  and  then  she  had  read  in 
a  clear,  cool  voice,  without  tremor  of  emotion: 

"I  am  grateful  for  your  love,  but  yet  I  do  not  want 
love.  I  have  had  boundless  love  from  many  people  dur- 
ing my  life.  And  in  more  than  one  case  that  love  has 
been  my  greatest  calamity.  I  have  boundlessly  suf- 
fered from  it.  But  the  thing,  in  any  hopeful  degree, 
I  have  never  been  able  to  get,  except  from  two  women, 
of  whom  I  never  see  the  only  one  I  care  for,  and  from 
Edward  Jones,  is  'understanding.' 

"I  am  nearly  sick  of  being  loved — as  of  being  hated 
— for  my  lovers  understand  me  as  little  as  my  haters. 


320  THE   DAYSMAN 

4 

I  had  rather,  in  fact,  be  disliked  by  a  man  who  some- 
what understood  me  than  much  loved  by  a  man  who 
understood  nothing  of  me." 

"Of  course,"  she  had  added  calmly,  "I  believe  in 
a  similarity  of  tastes  and  ideas  but  even  that  point 
seems  to  me  of  far  less  importance  than  that  the  am- 
bitions should  not  clash.  Well-bred  persons  are  ac- 
customed to  allowing  one  another  the  privilege  of  a 
difference  in  opinion,  but  where  there  is  to  be  a  com- 
munity of  material  interests,  would  it  not  seem  abso- 
hitely  essential  that  both  natures  should  reach  their 
fullest  individual  development  along  similar  lines?" 

Beverly  had  admitted  the  truth  of  this  argument 
and  had  even  concurred  in  her  expressed  conviction 
that  many  matrimonial  ventures  were  wrecked  on  the 
rocks  of  conflicting  ambition  or  drifted  helplessly  in 
the  counter  currents  of  distinct  and  separate  aspira- 
tions which  might  have  come  safely  into  port  with  col- 
ors flying  had  their  wise  skippers  but  carried  the  chart 
of  mutual  understanding  and  avoided  the  shoals  of 
sentiment  as  well  as  the  dangerous  quicksands  of  love. 

The  idea  had  seemed  to  him  merely  a  unique  and 
rather  original  expression  of  his  own  point  of  view — 
a  new  and  modern  way  of  defining  a  very  old  and  well- 
established  relation  and  he  had  accepted  it  as  unques- 
tionably as  he  had  recognized  the  fact  that  Carroll 
Minturn  was  the  one  woman  above  all  others  whom  he 
eared  to  call  his  wife. 

Life,  so  far,  had  developed  in  the  girl  an  unfortunate 
confidence  in  her  own  judgment — a  reliant  self-poise 
that  extended  itself  even  to  the  realm  of  her  warmest 


THE   DAYSMAN  321 

affections.  There  was  a  protective  tenderness  in  her 
devotion  to  her  father,  a  gentle  indulgence  in  her  feel- 
ing for  her  Aunt  Anne  that  in  no  way  hindered  a  per- 
fectly just  estimate  of  the  temperamental  weaknesses 
and  foibles  which  she  recognized  in  each. 

The  very  nobility  of  her  natural  emotions  had  given 
her  the  power  of  temporarily  detaching  herself  from 
her  own  feelings  and  their  object  and  usually,  there- 
fore, it  was  from  the  heights  of  reason  that  she  found 
the  determinative  measure  of  comprehension  . 

She  had  known  the  power  of  love  as  a  controlling 
principle  of  conduct  but  she  had  yet  to  learn  its  force 
as  a  mighty  factor  of  life.  Clarence  Beverly  had  fit- 
ted almost  naturally  into  her  scheme  of  things.  From 
the  time  of  their  meeting  which  had  taken  place  during 
her  first  season  "out,"  and  in  the  earlier  years  of  his 
public  career,  he  had  interested  her.  Although  she  was 
conscious  that  their  natures  had  never  touched  very 
closely  and  she  acknowledged  the  absence  of  that  theo- 
retical kinship  of  spirit  upon  which  so  many  marriages 
had  been  founded  in  the  past,  she  had,  as  yet,  seen  no 
reason  for  altering  her  view  of  a  future  that  included 
him,  and  while  she  still  refused  to  enter  into  any  defi- 
nite plans,  they  had  both  grown  to  regard  her  attitude 
as  tantamount  to  a  decision. 

Almost  unconsciously,  however,  as  she  sat  alone  on 
the  wide  gallery  she  was  comparing  the  Beverly  of  to- 
day with  the  man  that  she  had  thought  he  was  in  the 
early  months  of  their  friendship  when  the  glow  of  his 
vigorous  personal  enthusiasms  had  passed  for  the  ar- 
dor of  profound  convictions,  when  the  rash  impetuosity 


322  THE   DAYSMAN 

of  undisciplined  impulse  had  appeared  in  the  guise  of 
virile  fearlessness  and  eager  courage. 

Even  then  he  had  been  recognized  as  "a  coming 
man"  of  immense  energy,  of  great  popularity,  of  some 
literary  talent,  and  of  no  little  oratorical  power. 

It  was  then  that  her  heart  had  warmed  to  him,  that 
her  sympathies  had  responded  to  that  boundless  optim- 
ism, to  that  almost  boyish  fervor  with  which  he  had 
thrown  himself  into  the  conflict  and  had  gone  forth  to 
meet  his  future — a  future  that  was  strikingly  rich  in 
opportunity. 

But  had  his  subsequent  career  fulfilled  the  early 
promise  which  had  been  given  forth,  had  he  justified 
the  hopes  that  had  been  implanted?  Already  his  ene- 
mies were  characterizing  him  as  an  opportunist  who 
would  ride  rough  shod  over  tradition  and  cut  across 
the  corners  of  principle  for  personal  advantage  or  par- 
tisan interest.  Accusing  him  of  being  guided  by  politi- 
cal expediency  in  his  support  of  popular  measures, 
they  denied  his  capacity  for  heroic  devotion  to  prin- 
ciple and  compared  the  zeal  with  which  he  attacked  the 
shadow  to  the  calculating  shrewdness  with  which  he 
avoided  or  evaded  direct  combat  with  the  substance. 

Even  some  of  his  friends  had  begun  to  question  his 
sincerity  while  others,  coldly  critical,  were  describing 
his  actions,  as  erratic  and  impulsive,  the  man  himself, 
as  heedless  of  precedent  and  lacking  in  calmness  and 
sobriety  of  judgment.  They  deplored  his  intolerance 
of  criticism,  his  lack  of  true  dignity  as  well  as  his  spec- 
tacular efforts  for  the  maintenance  of  personal  popu- 
larity. 


THE    DAYSMAN  323 

Her  father,  she  knew,  had  always  regarded  him  as 
a  man  of  utterance  rather  than  of  achievement,  but 
then  her  father  had  never  entertained  a  cordial  liking 
for  Beverly.  She  had  wanted  to  believe  that  ineradi- 
cable political  animosities  lay  at  the  root  of  the  anti- 
pathy which  was  in  reality  personal  and  instinctive,  but 
Senator  Minturn's  subsequent  frank  friendship  for 
Treverin,  who  was  likewise  not  of  his  party,  had  for- 
ever dispelled  that  delusion. 

And  she — how  had  she  come  to  regard  this  man  who 
had  already  a  lien  upon  her  future?  If  she  had  ac- 
knowledged that  there  was  a  lack  of  logical  system  in 
his  "cultured"  development,"  she  had  attributed  it  to 
what  some  one  had  described  as  our  "national  contra- 
dictions," those  temperamental  inconsistencies  of  char- 
acter through  which  our  greatest  virtues  and  most 
striking  defects  are  portrayed. 

In  spite  of  his  detractors,  moreover,  Clarence  Beverly 
was  a  man  of  power,  and  she  worshiped  power  in  the 
abstract;  she  had  thought  that  she  might  love  it  in  the 
concrete.  She  had  always  believed  that  he  was  es- 
sentially of  the  race  of  the  Titans,  that  there  must, 
therefore,  come  a  day  when  he  himself  would  look  back 
upon  his  mistakes  and  call  them  "youthful  vagaries;" 
when  he  would  view  his  own  extravagances  with  a  very 
tolerant  smile. 

It  was  only  lately  that  she  had  begun  to  doubt — for 
the  gulf  that  separated  profession  from  practice  seemed 
hourly  growing  wider.  Was  he  more  and  more  becom- 
ing, as  his  enemies  said,  "the  creature  of  his  own 


324  THE   DAYSMAN 

tongue,"  and  "a  mighty  writer  of  words?"  She  her- 
self had  not  found  him  less  greedy  of  that  which  flat- 
tered his  "colossal  egotism"  and  daily  he  seemed  to 
demand  even  from  her  a  larger  faith  in  his  own  "raw 
omniscience." 

Had  she  all  along  mistaken  his  platitudes  for  new 
ideas,  his  commonplaces  for  inspired  utterances,  in- 
stinct with  power;  and  his  perfunctory  homilies  for 
profound  thought;  or  was  it  simply  that  the  man  him- 
self had  degenerated;  that  he  had,  in  the  last  analysis, 
come  to  be  less  than  he  was? 

How  lightly  one  might  have  dismissed  all  criticism 
had  he  been  one  of  that  type  of  man  who  ' '  needs  neither 
praise  nor  blame";  but  he  was  far  otherwise — insatia- 
bly, he  demanded  commendation;  arrogantly,  he  repu- 
diated criticism;  and  what  hurt  her  most  was  the  fact 
that  she  knew  herself  to  be  growing  more  sensitively 
aware  that  he  loved  the  glare  of  the  limelight;  that  he 
had  almost  lost  the  keen  pleasure  of  living  in  the  child- 
ish consciousness  of  posing. 

How  strange  that  she  was  going  to  marry  a  man  like 
this  when  she  had  always  regarded  the  "passion  for 
notoriety"  as  horribly  vulgar  as  it  was  hopelessly  com- 
mon; when  she  had  always  considered  the  surest  test 
of  breeding  to  lie  in  its  inherent  capacity  for  reserve. 

She  roused  herself,  at  last,  from  speculations  that 
were  becoming  daily  more  painful  and  went  to  give 
orders  that  Sambo  should  be  in  readiness  to  deliver  her 
father's  note,  and  that  a  guest  chamber  should  be  pre- 
pared in  the  event  of  Treverin's  coming  on  the  mor- 
row. 


THE   DAYSMAN  325 

Sambo  was  evidently  disgruntled  at  the  prospect  of 
"company,"  and  she  heard  him  voicing  his  complaints 
to  Martha  as  she  passed,  later,  under  the  kitchen  win- 
dows on  her  way  out  to  the  garden. 

"Seem  lak  we  all  gwine  hab  some  high  falutin' 
gent 'man  fum  de  No'th  hangin'  'round'  yere  ebery 
summah.  Dat  young  Marse  Beverly,  las  yeah,  mos'  wa' 
de  whole  place  out  wif  his  rarin'  an*  plungin'  an'  his 
fine  elo's  what  mek  him  sech  a  trouble  to  hise'f  an'  a 
heap  sight  mo'  tuh  me." 

It  was  true.  She  remembered  how  Beverly  had  in- 
sisted upon  pitching  hay  until  he  was  completely  worn 
out  and  disheveled;  how  Sambo  had  spent  the  best 
part  of  the  following  day  freshening  up  the  sorry  look- 
ing raiment  with  which  he  had  graced  the  occasion 
while  she  had  devoted  herself  to  smoothing  down  her 
lover's  ruffled  spirits.  For,  'contrary  *to  Clarence's1 
expectations,  the  haying  had  proved  a  fiasco.  Instead 
of  a  brilliant  little  grandstand  play  which  might  else- 
where have  elicited  a  round  of  applause,  his  perform- 
ance had  been  described  as  "annoying;"  he  himself  as 
a  perfect  nuisance,  and  but  for  the  fact  of  his  being 
her  father's  guest,  he  might  have  been  considered  of- 
ficiously "in  the  way." 

Likewise,  when  he  had  insisted  during  the  following 
week  upon  tramping  home  from  the  village  in  a  heavy 
downpour  of  rain  even  though  he  had  been  offered  "a 
lift"  in  a  neighbor's  carriage,  he  had  been  character- 
ized as  a  "fool"  instead  of  lauded  as  a  "hero." 

He  had  spoiled  the  servants  by  commending  them 
too  highly  for  duties  which  they  were  well  paid  to  per- 


326  THE   DAYSMAN 

form;  and  had  outrageously  tipped  them  for  carrying 
out  her  orders  and,  to  cap  the  climax,  in  a  grand  finale 
of  supreme  tactlessness,  he  had  allowed  the  papers  all 
over  the  country  to  get  hold  of  the  story  of  his  rustic 
exploits,  dragging  in  a  minute  description  of  their 
quiet  little  home  that  had  infuriated  her  father  even 
more  than  the  glaring  headlines  in  which  Senator  Min- 
turn  had  been  Characterized  (in  his  rural  retreat)  as 
"a  modern  Cincinnatus. " 

The  summer  had,  on  the  whole,  been  so  thoroughly 
disappointing  and  Beverly  himself  so  aggressively 
wearing  and  unfortunately  obnoxious  that  no  one  had 
been  sorry  to  see  him  go,  and  in  self-defense  she  had 
told  him  that  hereafter  he  might  come  to  Lennox, 
where  she  spent  the  Fall  with  her  Aunt  Anne — but  un- 
der no  circumstances  was  he  ever  again  to  "invade  the 
South." 

Poor  Sambo,  no  wonder  he  groaned  at  the  mere  re- 
membrance of  his  woes,  but  she  laughed  softly  to  her- 
self as  she  pictured  the  old  negro's  surprise  when  his 
proverbial  pessimism  should  at  last  allow  him  to  ad- 
mit a  difference  between  the  two  "gent 'men  fom  de 
No'th." 

For  Treverin  and  Beverly  were  as  unlike — she  con- 
fessed— as  it  could  be  possible,  perhaps,  for  strong  men 
to  be.  Indeed  had  they  been  less  strikingly  dissimilar, 
it  is  more  than  probable  that  both  could  not  have  held, 
at  this  time,  so  vital  a  place  in  her  interest. 

Quite  naturally  it  had  come  about  since  that  first 
meeting  for  Treverin  to  establish  himself  in  their  cir- 
cle. As  Elizabeth's  brother,  he  had  claimed  and  held 


THE   DAYSMAN  327 

his  own  with  her.  As  the  son  of  an  old  and  dear 
friend,  and  perhaps  also  because  they  were  fellow- 
enthusiasts  on  the  subject  of  prints,  he  had  won  Sen- 
ator Carroll's  liking;  while  between  Senator  Minturn 
and  the  young  man  there  was  already  a  sort  of  cordial 
off-hand  bonhommie  such  as  she  had  never  known  her 
father  to  entertain  for  any  one.  Even  their  political 
differences  had  the  remarkable  effect  of  drawing  them 
together,  although  they  were  admittedly  at  one  only 
on  the  statehood  issue,  and  she  had  been  amazed  to 
hear  her  father  declare  that  Treverin's  republicanism 
in  New  York  stood  for  just  about  the  same  thing  as  his 
own  diametrically  opposite  affinities  in  the  South;  "the 
better  element  united  against  the  worse;  the  strong- 
hold of  purer  politics  withstanding  the  onslaught  of 
greater  corruption." 

And  thus  it  had  gradually  come  to  pass  that  Trever- 
in's  dark,  smooth-shaven  face  and  well-knit  athletic 
figure  were  frequently  seen  in  Aunt  Anne's  drawing- 
room  (so  tactfully  indeed  had  he  won  his  way  into  the 
good  graces  of  that  lady  that  she  considered  him  quite 
an  interesting  acquisition  to  the  noble  relays  of  gusta- 
tory enthusiasts  who  met  around  her  dinner-table),  and 
was  a  familiar  and  welcome  visitor  in  the  girl's  winter 
home,  although  he  had  skillfully  avoided  so  far  any 
marked  obtrusion  upon  her  individual  attention. 

In  their  frequent  chats  together  she  had  found  him 
always  as  interested  as  he  was  interesting,  somewhat 
quiet,  but  thoroughly  self-contained;  full  of  pleasant 
little  anecdotes  but  rarely  verging  upon  personal  topics, 
and  yet  somehow  she  had  known  that  he  was  strong; 


328  THE    DAYSMAN 

intuitively  but  surely  she  had  felt  that  underneath  the 
surface,  this  keen  business  man,  this  practical  person 
of  affairs  had  another  nature.  She  could  even  imagine 
that  romance  might  some  day  come  to  nest  in  his  heart ; 
she  almost  believed  that  dreams  had  at  one  time  be- 
seiged  his  brain. 

There  were  certain  phases  of  life  that  she  never  dis- 
cussed with  Beverly  because  she  had  instinctively  real- 
ized that  he  would  be  incapable  of  appreciating  her 
point  of  view.  For  commonplace  sentiments  he  had, 
in  a  way,  some  respect,  even  more,  perhaps,  than  had 
she,  but  he  was  strangely  unfeeling  when  it  came  to 
the  more  subtle  niceties  of  esthetic  beauty.  To  him 
the  poetry  in  nature  made  little  appeal  and  he  lacked 
the  sensitive  fiber  through  which  he  might  have  com- 
prehended even  where  he  could  not  understand  the  del- 
icate language  of  its  intangible  allurements.  He  was 
neither  comtemplative  by  nature  nor  had  he  come  into 
a  large  inheritance  of  thought,  and  there  were  curious 
blank  spaces  in  his  organization  wherein  the  measure  of 
his  appreciation  seemed  to  become  the  limit  of  his 
capacity. 

Of  Treverin,  on  the  other  hand,  she  would  havp 
been  inclined  to  believe  that  "the  best  parts  of  his 
conversation  were  the  things  he  left  unsaid;"  that  the 
man  in  himself  was  convincing  beyond  his  own  power 
of  expression. 

She  had  not  arrived  at  a  point  where  she  could  make 
conscious  comparisons  between  the  two  men;  such  an 
inward  attitude  would  have  savored  of  disloyalty,  and 
the  girl  came  of  a  race  which  could  not  lightly  break 


THE   DAYSMAN  329 

faith  with  its  obligations.  If  she  had  been  forced  to 
define  her  mental  processes  she  might  probably  nave 
said  that  she  thoroughly  enjoyed  the  intellectual  exer- 
cise of  contrasting  two  forceful  individualities  for,  af- 
ter all,  it  was  that  certain  essence  of  primordial 
strength  that  existed  in  each  which  had  attracted  her, 
she  thought,  to  both;  and,  as  yet,  she  did  not  differ- 
entiate between  "the  personality  of  genius,"  which 
might,  perhaps,  have  been  the  talent  of  the  one  and 
the  "genius  of  personality"  which  was  the  gift  with- 
out doubt  of  the  other. 

Strength  they  possessed  in  common.  Treverin's  lim- 
itations she  had  yet  to  discover.  Beverly's  weaknesses 
\vhere  they  existed  were  psychological  rather  than  ac- 
tual, and  as  long  as  her  doubts  were  without  the  larger 
justification  of  definite  acts,  she  would  pin  her  faith 
to  fundamentals  and  take  a  certain  philosophical  pleas- 
ure in  the  fact  that  Fate  had  granted  her  to  know 
strong  men. 


330  THE   DAYSMAN 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"The  highest  proof  of  virtue  is  to  possess  boundless  power 
without  abusing  it." — Macaulay. 

IN  reply  to  Santor  Minturn's  invitation,  Treverin 
had  written  that  he  was  not  sure  of  being  able  to  give 
himself  the  pleasure  of  more  time  than  would  be  neces- 
sary for  the  transaction  of  that  business  which  he  had 
mentioned  in  his  former  note — but  so  loth  was  he,  he 
added,  to  surrender  the  privilege  of  this  charming  hos- 
pitality that  he  begged  to  be  allowed  to  leave  the  ques- 
tion an  open  one  until  the  afternoon  of  Thursday  and. 

in  the  meantime,  he  expected  to  ride  over  from  

some  time  during  the  morning  of  that  day. 

"It  would  almost  seem,"  remarked  the  girl  with  a 
puzzled  little  smile,  as  she  handed  back  the  note  which 
her  father  had  given  her  to  read,  "it  would  almost  seem 
as  though  the  result  of  the  conference  were  to  deter- 
mine his  decision."  In  spite  of  herself  she  began  to  be 
curious  and  she  was  not  a  woman  given  to  indulgence 
in  idle  questioning. 

On  the  following  morning,  Treverin  arrived — some- 
what earlier  than  he  was  expected  and  found  her  cut- 
ting roses  in  the  garden.  She  looked  up  quickly  at  the 
sound  of  horses'  hoofs  in  the  path  just  beyond,  but  the 
inquiring  eyes  that  met  his  own  were  confidently  calm 
as  she  gave  him  her  hand  with  a  cordial  smile, 


THE   DAYSMAN  331 

"This  quite  convinces  me,"  she  said  lightly,  "that 
you  have  seen,  at  least,  one  bona  fide  sunrise." 

"Yes,  I  left — before  day-break.  I  wanted,"  he  added 
explanatorily,  "to  realize  the  freshness  of  a  Southern 
dawn. ' ' 

"Are  you  quite  sure,"  she  asked  hospitably,  "that 
you  aren't  ready  for  what  the  darkies  call  'secon' 
breakfas'?  It's  a  long  ride  to  have  made  by  ten 
o'clock." 

"Did  the  early  bird  ever  fail  to  find  a  worm,"  he 
asked,  laughing.  "I  discovered  mine  in  a  tiny  cabin 
away  back  on  the  road.  I  wonder,"  he  added  specula- 
tively,  "if  I'll  ever  taste  such  corn  pone  again?" 

"If  it  was  old  Aunt  Sally's  hoe-cake,  I  doubt  it," 
she  rejoined  merrily.  "I  ride  before  breakfast  myself, 
and  I've  discovered  the  advantages  of  that  road." 

"And  so  you  know  the  joys  of  a  fresh  horse,  when 
the  day  is  young,"  he  exclaimed  quickly.  "I  used  to 
ride,  in  the  early  morning,  years  ago,  out  West." 

"Did  you  like  the  West?"  she  queried,  "I  have 
wanted  to  ask  you  so  many  times." 

"It  is  a  wonderful  country  with  magnificent  oppor- 
tunities and  I  revere  it,  almost,  I  think,  as  the  birth- 
place of  my  highest  aspirations." 

"I  believe,"  she  answered  slowly,  "that  I  feel  very 
much  that  way  about  the  South — no  place  else  have  I 
ever  come  nearly  so  realizing  what  it  means  to  be. 
"Heir  of  all  the  ages  in  the  foremost  files  of  time.'  " 

"Ah,  I  can  appreciate  that  point  of  view,"  he  re- 
joined with  instant  sympathy,  "because  this  is,  in  a 


332  THE    DAYSMAN 

very   personal    and   peculiar   sense    the   land   of   your 
forefathers!" 

"That  is  the  reason  my  father  loves  it  and,  as  you 
know,  he  is  not  at  all  afraid  of  the  sentiment  of  ex- 
pressed enthusiasm  even  in  this  materialistic  age,  but 
I  love  it  as  much,"  she  hesitated,  for  she  was  not  in 
the  habit  of  defining  her  emotions,  "I  think  for  its 
present  as  for  its  past  significance.  Here  one  can  get 
into  the  closest  touch  with  the  genuine  realities  of  na- 
ture, and  this  is  the  only  spot  on  earth  where  I  feel 
intensely  alive." 

"I  can  imagine,"  he  replied  gravely,  "what  it  must 
mean  to  you!" 

His  eyes  wandered  slowly  over  the  sweet,  old-fash- 
ioned garden  and  then  came  back  to  the  trim  loveliness 
of  the  woman  who  stood  among  the  roses. 

She  wore  a  simple  little  gown  whose  severe  lines  ac- 
centuated the  exquisite  grace  of  her  girlish  figure.  Its 
very  material  which  he  would  have  thought  charater- 
less  on  another  woman  seemed  eloquent  of  personality 
in  every  clinging  fold. 

He  knew  himself  to  be  under  the  spell  of  a  passion 
that  still  slumbered;  he  understood  that  hers  was  the 
awakening  touch  that  could  call  it  into  life,  but  even 
had  he  been  positive  of  her  competency  to  care  for 
him  with  all  the  intensity  and  energy  of  which  he  be- 
lieved her  capable,  by  nature,  John  Treverin  realized 
that  only  by  guarding  her  from  the  inspirational  power 
of  that  psychological  moment,  which  must  discover  to 
them  both  the  dangers  and  temptations  of  the  situation, 
could  he  hold  himself  worthy  of  a  love  which  he  would 


THE    DAYSMAN  333 

have  given  his  soul  to  win.  If  he  hoped  that  chance 
might  some  day  give  him  the  right  to  fathom  those 
hidden  depths  which  lay  beneath  the  calm  serenities 
of  her  emotions,  he  was  still  wise  enough  not  to  dare 
Fate  to  arouse  the  tempestuous  grandeur  of  a  storm 
whose  force  might  not  be  spent  in  its  own  tumultuous 
profundities. 

And,  therefore,  because  he  was  eminently  practical 
and  knew  the  peril  of  playing  with  fire,  John  Treverin 
was  relieved  when  the  girl  changed  the  subject  to  a 
safer  topic  than  that  of  intense  living. 

''And  yet  you  didn't  remain  in  the  West?"  she  ven- 
tured tentatively. 

"No,"  he  returned  humorously,  "like  the  aspiring 
disciple  of  modern  realism,  I  thought  to  at  first  establish 
my  own  canons  of  art  in  conformity  to  certain  ideal  con- 
ceptions and  personal  tastes.  Since  then — "  he  paused, 
as  though  debating  whether  she  were  sufficiently  in- 
ested  to  care  to  have  him  go  on. 

"Since  then?"  There  was  no  mistaking  the  look 
of  absorbed  attention  that  had  crept  into  her  eyes;  it 
was  the  first  time  that  this  man  had  ever  spoken  in- 
timately of  himself. 

"Since  then,"  with  a  whimsical  smile,  "I  have  been 
devoting  myself  to  a  study  of  technique,  for  it  is  only, 
I  think,  by  bringing  the  standards  of  the  past  to  meet 
the  needs  of  the  present  that  a  man  may  hope  to  master 
the  art  of  life." 

"And  what,  I  wonder,"  she  suddenly  exclaimed, 
"would  a  man  like  you  call  the  art  of  life." 

"Happiness,"  he  rejoined,  with  a  moment's  hesita- 


334  THE   DAYSMAN 

ticn,  "and,"  with  a  reminiscent,  tolerant  smile,  "for- 
tunately for  me  I  was  pulled  up  short  before  I  had 
pursued  it  far  along  the  lines  of  those  wilful  vagaries 
that  have  filled  the  galleries  of  time  with  impression- 
istic daubs  that  are  nothing  more  nor  less  than  puerile 
developments  of  our  own  misplaced  enthusiasms." 

"I  like  your  philosophy,"  she  answered  smiling, 
"it's  delightfully  near  to  Kipling's  own.  Do  you  re- 
member the  lines,  apropos  of  a  cub  in  the  pride  of 
his  earliest  kill?  'But  the  jungle  is  large  and  the  cub 
he  is  small,  let  him  think  and  be  still.'  " 

"It  isn't  philosophy  with  me,"  he  replied  dubiously. 
"I'm  afraid  it's  only  experience. 

"But  won't  you  tell  me,"  he  added,  quickly  chang- 
ing the  subject,  "something  about  this  delightful 
country."  He  glanced  swiftly  about  him  with  that 
keen  appreciative  interest  which  always  attracted  her, 
and  added :  "  It  is  fascinating  here. ' ' 

"This  is  the  dearest  place  in  the  world,"  she  ex- 
claimed warmly. 

And  then  because  she  saw  that  he  could  feel  the 
charm  of  their  surroundings  she  repeated  the  story  of 
the  house  whose  substantial  simplicity  had  stood  with 
the  magnificent  forest  trees  that  shaded  its  wide  lawns 
as  a  silent  witness  of  the  centuries. 

She  related  some  of  the  history  that  had  been  made 
when  grim  war  stalked  through  the  broad  fields  of  wav- 
ing blue  grass  beyond:  when  the  noise  of  shot  and  of 
shell  had  risen  above  the  gentle  drone  of  the  bee  and 
the  swift  whirr  of  the  humming  bird  that  flitted  about 


THE   DAYSMAN  385 

them  as  they  walked  through  the  drowsy  summer  morn- 
ing. 

"I  suppose,"  he  ventured,  presently,  "this  is  where 
you  mostly  write. ' ' 

"But  you  are  entirely  mistaken,"  and  she  laughed 
softly,  "because  this,  as  I  have  just  told  you,  is  where 
I — mostly —  live." 

"Then  you  wouldn't  quite  agree  with  that  other  lit- 
erary personage  who  has  declared  himself  'never  sure 
of  life  unless  he  finds  literature  in  it'?" 

"Dear  me,  no,"  and  her  eyes  twinkled  merrily;  "I'd 
much  rather  believe — to  parody  Thoreau — that  when 
life  becomes  the  poem  one  would  have  writ,  then  fools 
alone  will  try  to  utter  it.  But  you  are,  please  to  re- 
member, Mr.  Treverin,  that  I  don't  belong  with  liter- 
ary personages." 

"You  haven't  allowed  me,  yet,"  he  rejoined,  laugh- 
ing, "to  discover  that  fact  for  myself.  Do  you  think 
it  quite  fair,"  in  an  injured  tone,  "never  to  tell  me 

"Perhaps  it's  because  I've  decided,"  she  rejoined 
demurely,  "that  it  isn't  wise  to  help  one's  friends  to 
discover  one's  limitations." 

"Don't  you  think  that  genius  is  a  gift  to  be  shared 
with  other  people?"  he  asked,  ignoring  the  implication. 

"By  all  means,  but  half  a  talent  isn't  worth  divid- 
ing." 

"Since  you  take  yourself  with  so  little  seriousness,  I 
wonder  why  you  adopted  writing  as  a  vocation." 

"But  really,  I  am  in  earnest   Mr.  Treverin,  when  I 


336  THE   DAYSMAN 

say  that  I  believe  writing  to  be  only  an  avocation  with 
most  women. 

"You  see,"  she  went  on  rapidly  with  an  adorable 
attempt  at  gravity,  "I'm  speaking  impersonally  of 
the  sex,  you  see.  Woman  hasn't  yet  found  herself, 
and,  when  her  mind  happens  to  be  active,  she  simply 
has  to  have  an  interest.  Therefore  if  she  doesn't  hap- 
pen to  be  enthusiastically  fond  of  society,  isn't  particu- 
larly keen  on  athletics,  hasn't  the  duties  of  house- 
keeping or  motherhood  to  keep  her  out  of  mischief  and 
eccentricity  (he  wondered  if  she  were  thinking  of  her 
Aunt  Anne),  what  is  there  left  but  literature?  Is  it 
not  the  only  form  of  art  that  can  be  pursued  entirely 
in  secret?"  and  she  shrugged  her  shoulders  and  threw 
out  her  hands  with  a  pretty  little  gesture  of  well- 
feigned  despair  as  she  finished  her  apology  for  the  sex. 

"Happy  is  the  man  who  has  found  his  work," 
quoted  Treverin,  laughing  down  at  her  from  his  su- 
perior height. 

"That  is  just  the  trouble,"  she  argued,  "those  trite 
platitudes  don't  apply  to  woman  at  all.  She  may 
search  in  vain  for  her  work,  hoping  and  trusting  that 
it  is  bound  up  somewhere  in  the  bundle  of  life  only  at 
last  to  discover  it,  lost  in  some  man's  career." 

"Lost!"  with  a  quizzical  smile;  "could  that  be  pos- 
sible unless  the  career  proved  to  be  only  a  sort  of 
'pancing  charger.'  I  wonder  (there  was  a  grave  chal- 
lenge in  his  eyes)  if  the  woman  always  ignores  the 
relative  importance  of  the  man?" 

"Not  at  all,"  she  returned  lightly,  "you  seem  to  for- 


THE    DAYSMAN  337 

get  that  a  charger  occasionally  creates  the  excitement 
of  throwing  his  rider." 

"And  it  is  not  often,"  he  returned  gravely,  "that 
one  hears  of  a  woman  who  can  throw  a  charger." 

"Unless  she  is  very  foolish,"  with  a  demure  smile, 
"she  allows  the  rider  to  handle  his  own  mount." 

"Then  you  no  longer  refuse  to  admit,"  with  an  enig- 
matical expression,  "that  the  rider  has  some  place  in 
the  story?" 

"I — I  don't  exactly  know  what  you  might  mean." 
She  was  flushed  and  slightly  trembling.  Never  had  he 
seen  her  so  nearly  moved;  never  had  she  been  so  exqui- 
sitely appealing.  In  the  first  startled  loveliness  of  an 
awakening  fear  she  seemed  far  more  beautiful  than  he 
had  ever  thought  her  in  the  sweet  assurance  of  a  calm 
repose. 

With  a  sudden  thrill  of  emotional  exhilaration  he 
realized  that  they  were  very  near  the  danger  line  and, 
with  every  fibre  of  his  being,  he  longed  to  cross  it 
now. 

She,  on  the  other  hand,  felt  sure  that  he  understood 
nothing  of  her  relations  with  Beverly,  and  yet  some- 
how the  arrow  had  gone  home.  Had  not  she  herself 
been  questioning  the  relative  significance  of  the  man: 
would  her  old  childish  enthusiasm  for  the  charger  al- 
ways satisfy? 

"Pardon  me,  Miss  Minturn,"  he  exclaimed  quickly, 
"for  a  more  than  foolish  play  upon  words  and  for  my 
very  presumptuous  use  of  a  privileged  glimpse  into 
your  childhood." 

"As  well  as  for  a  lucky  guess  at  the  weakness  of  my 


338  THE    DAYSMAN 

womanhood?"  she  questioned  archly,  for  she  had  com- 
pletely recovered  her  usual  self-possession. 

"To  err  is  human,  to  forgive,  womanly." 

"You  are  almost  forgiven,"  she  said  slowly,  as  she 
met  his  smiling  eyes. 

"But  not  acquitted?"  he  persisted  earnestly. 

"It  is  hardly  my  province,"  she  rejoined  gravely, 
"to  absolve  you  for  speaking  truth." 

"You  are  generous,"  he  returned  lightly. 

"I  am  simply  just,"  and  then  she  smiled  as  she  led 
the  way  into  the  house. 

Senator  Minturn  greeted  the  young  man  warmly,  al- 
most affectionately,  and  shortly  afterwards  luncheon 
was  served  in  a  spacious  old-fashioned  dining  room, 
furnished  in  mahogany,  whose  rich  claret  colored  sur- 
faces seemed  to  glow  with  the  warmth  of  countless  vig- 
orous rubbings. 

It  was  not  until  after  the  meal  was  over  and  Carroll 
had  left  the  two  men  alone  in  her  father's  library  that 
Treverin  mentioned  the  object  of  his  visit.  Then  he 
came  to  his  point  with  that  simple  directness  which  was 
his  most  striking  characteristic. 

His  enthusiasm  about  the  place  had  delighted  the 
older  man,  who  was  expressing  the  hope  that  his  guest 
might  decide  to  remain  with  them  for  a  few  days,  at 
least,  when  Jack  replied: 

"Pray  don't  tempt  me  too  far,  sir!  For  until  you 
know  my  object  in  seeking  this  interview  the  question 
of  my  remaining  longer  must  still  be  held  in  abeyance. 

"The  facts  are,  Senator,"  and  he  leaned  forward 
^lightly  and  faced  the  older  man  squarely,  "I  love  your 


THE    DAYSMAN  339 

daughter,  sir,  and "  the   grey  eyes  flashed  while 

the  firm  jaw  set  itself  a  little  more  decidedly — "I  have 
concluded  not  to  give  her  up  until  she  bears  another 
man's  name." 

"My  dear  sir,"  replied  the  older  man  simply,  "I 
wish  I  could  tell  you  how  sorry  I  am ! " 

"Which  means,  I  suppose,"  replied  Treverin,  grave- 
ly, "that  you  think  I  haven't  the  ghost  of  a  chance, 
that  you  consider  the  proposition  absolutely  hopeless?" 
and  then,  without  waiting  for  a  reply,  he  went  on 
quickly:  "I  am  prepared  for  that  point  of  view,  my 
dear  Senator.  I  have  never  had  any  reason  for  suppos- 
ing that  I  could  win  your  daughter,  but "  he 

paused  for  a  brief  instant  and  then  added  tentatively: 
"I  have  a  feeling  that  the  Fates  will  give  me  a  chance 
some  day  to  make  at  least  the  attempt." 

"It  is  only  just  to  tell  you,  Mr.  Treverin,"  returned 
the  older  man  slowly,  "that,  although  my  daughter 
has  permitted  no  formal  announcement  of  the  fact,  she 
has  practically  given  her  promise  to  marry  another 
man." 

"I  wonder  if  you  will  understand  me,"  and  for  the 
first  time  a  humorous  smile  played  about  the  corners  of 
John  Treverin 's  mouth,  "I  wonder  if  you  will  under- 
stand me,  sir,  when  I  tell  you  that  this  is  not  a  surprise, 
that  I  was  aware  of  the  situation  even  before  I  met 
your  daughter,  but — can  you  forgive  the  repetition? — 
I  shall  not  give  her  up  until  she  bears  another  man's 
name." 

"And  what,  I  wonder,  is  your  idea,"  exclaimed  Sen- 
ator Minturn  curiously.  "Your  mode  of  attack  is,  I 


340  THE   DAYSMAN 

confess,  straightforward,  and,  frankly,  had  you  made 
an  earlier  entrance  into  the  lists  I  admit  that  you 
would  have  found  no  personal  champion  of  Senator 
Beverly  in  me.  But,  as  the  situation  is  today,  there 
are  complications.  My  daughter  is  not  free  and,  even 
though  I  might  wish  otherwise,  I  should  be  in  honor 
bound  to  expect  her  to  fulfill  her  obligations." 

"You  are  entirely  right,  my  dear  Senator  Minturn," 
returned  the  younger  man  earnestly,  "and  I  should  like 
you  to  believe  that  I  shall  assume  no  other  position 
than  this  which  is  alone  worthy  of  yourself  and  of  your 
daughter. 

"There  is  only  one  ally,"  he  went  on  rapidly,  "of 
whose  aid  I  should  like  to  feel  assured." 

"And  that  ally?"  asked  Senator  Minturn  smiling. 

"That  ally,  my  dear  Senator,  is  'Time.'  " 

"I  have  decided,"  returned  the  older  man  quietly, 
after  one  swift  moment  of  thought,  "I  have  decided  to 
trust  you  with  a  small  share  of  my  daughter's  confi- 
dence." He  paused  again,  as  though  weighing  the 
matter  carefully,  and  then  added  slowly.  "She  has 
refused  to  entertain  the  thought  of  marriage  for  at 
least  ten  more  months." 

"Thank  Heaven  for  the  fact,"  exclaimed  the  young 
man  fervently,  as  he  wrung  the  other's  hand.  "And 
thank  you,  my  dear  sir,"  he  added  simply,  "for  honor- 
ing me  with  this  confidence." 


THE  DAYSMAN          341 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"Lord  Henry,  also,  liked  to  be  superior, 

As  most  men  do,  the  little  or  the  great; 
The  very  lowest  find  out  an  inferior, 

At  least  they  think   so,  to  exert  their  state 
Upon :   for  there  are  very  few  things  wearier 

Than  solitary  Pride's    oppressive  weight. 
Which    mortals  generously   would   divide, 

By  bidding  others  carry  while  they  ride." 

— Byron. 

"AND  how,"  suggested  Senator  Minturn  with  a 
whimsical  smile.  "I  wonder  how  a  man,  so  handi- 
capped, could  extract  any  comfort  from  time." 

"To  time,"  replied  Treverin,  grimly,  "I  look  for 
Beverly's  opportunity  to  prove  himself  unworthy.  In 
ten  months,  my  dear  Senator,"  with  a  confident  smile, 
"the  man  will  without  doubt  hang  himself." 

' '  I  wish  I  might  be  as  sure  of  it, ' '  answered  the  older 
man  with  an  involuntary  sigh.  "I  find  no  tangible 
reason  as  a  backing  for  my  strong  dislike,  and  yet,  so 
thoroughly  convinced  am  I  that  this  man  will  never 
make  my  daughter  happy,  that  I  should  welcome,  al- 
most, any  positive  proof  of  his  moral  inferiority." 

He  was  grave,  intensely  earnest,  and  spoke  slowly, 
from  a  full  heart.  Dignified,  proud  and  of  that  courtly 
bearing,  traditional  of  the  Senate  of  the  old  school, 
the  father  of  Carroll  Minturn  was  not  a  man  to  give 


342  THE    DAYSMAN 

his  confidence  lightly,  but  he  had  long  felt  a  cordiality 
that  bordered  on  affection  for  the  younger  man,  and  it 
needed  but  the  inspirational  power  of  this  new  sympa- 
thy to  strengthen  the  bond  between  them  into  some- 
thing deeper  than  ordinary  friendship. 

In  Treverin's  voice  there  was  considerate  tenderness 
mingled  with  that  fine  veneration  which  he  had  always 
felt  for  this  typical  Southerner  of  an  older  time,  whose 
high  ideals  and  high  spirit  went  hand  in  hand  with 
gentle  manners,  but  his  words  were  essentially  of  his 
age  and  of  his  time. 

"This  apostle  of  righteousness,  my  dear  Senator,"  he 
replied  skeptically,  "has  been  many  things  to  many 
men,  but  he  is  far  too  clever,  I  imagine,  to  allow  him- 
self to  be  proven  morally  inferior." 

"And  yet,"  returned  the  older  man  with  some  heat, 
"even  conceding  that  he  has  it  letter-perfect,  does  he 
not  offend  repeatedly  against  the  spirit  of  the  moral 
code  as  well  as  against  that  higher  code  of  the  spirit 
(one  might  call  it),  which  has  always  obtained  among 
gentlemen,  sir,  which  has  invariably  been  recognized 
among  what  one  used  to  call  men  of  honor?" 

The  word  "sir,"  as  Senator  Minturn  used  it,  seemed 
capable  of  certain  delicate  nuances,  of  unsuspected 
shadings  and  gradations  of  meaning.  It  had  been  said 
of  him  in  his  youth,  that  no  man  had  a  truer  sense  of 
social  proportions.  His  fine  consideration  for  older 
persons  of  his  own  sex  was  as  distinctive  as  was  his  def- 
erential reverence  for  women.  Both  were,  no  doubt. 
the  outgrowth  of  the  same  root  and  were  essentially 
characteristic  of  the  man  whose  keen  sense  of  relative 


THE    DAYSMAN  343 

values  could  give  to  an  ordinary  mark  of  respect  or 
courtesy  the  larger  significance  of  an  appreciation.  It 
had  always  meant  something  therefore  to  hear  Chalton 
Minturn  address  an  older  man  as  ' '  Sir. ' '  For  an  equal 
in  age  and  position  the  title  stood  merely  as  a  form  of 
address — the  simple  substitution  of  a  name.  It  could 
express  extreme  coldness,  mild  enthusiasm,  affectionate 
cordiality  or  gentle  tolerance;  could  be  tempered  with 
firmness  or  elevated  into  warm  fervor  while  still  being 
addressed  to  men  on  an  equal  footing  in  the  same  plane. 
For  an  inferior,  on  the  other  hand,  the  simple  word 
merely  suggested  the  existence  of  a  gulf;  marked  its 
width  or  fixed  an  immeasureable  distance,  an  impassi- 
ble barrier,  in  inverse  ratio  usually  to  the  ability  of  the 
person  addressed  to  distinguish  a  resemblance  from  a 
difference. 

Treverin  had  recognized  the  fervor  of  an  appeal  in 
the  last  words  of  the  older  man,  an  appeal  from  the 
laxity  of  what  Senator  Minturn  called  "a  degenerate 
present"  to  the  standards  of  that  ideal  "past"  of 
which  he  was  a  survivor,  and  his  tone  was  vibrant  with 
sympathy  as  he  said. 

"Granting,  my  dear  Senator,  that  Beverly  is  an  of- 
fender against  the  spirit  of  the  moral  code;  that  he 
knows  nothing  of  that  higher  code  of  spirit  which  ob- 
tains among  gentlemen  and  men  of  honor — granting 
that  his  breeding  matches  his  quality  (and  I  am  not 
the  man  to  deny  it) — even  admitting  that  no  man  has 
a  slighter  sense  of  obligation,  that  no  politician  is  more 
callous,  that  his  party  maneuvers  would  make  the  most 
sophisticated  of  bosses  blush,  still,  Clarence  Beverly  is 


344  THE   DAYSMAN 

a  man  of  power,  a  product  of  the  forces  of  his  age,  an 
apotheosis  of  the  spirit  of  the  Nation  and —  ' '  he  paused 
a  moment,  then  added  thoughtfully — "the  god  of  this 
generation  is  power;  its  ethics  is  success." 

"It  is  quite  evident,  Mr.  Treverin,  that  you  do  not 
underrate  your  antagonist,"  exclaimed  the  Senator, 
smiling,  "and  yet,"  there  was  a  shade  of  anxiety  in 
his  tone,  "I  wonder  how  you  can  imagne  that  a  man 
who  has  so  successfully  imposed  himself  upon  the  rest 
of  the  world  will  be  unable  to  hold  his  own  with  a 
woman. ' ' 

John  Treverin  threw  his  head  back  and  laughed 
softly  before  he  replied. 

"My  dear  Senator,  I  am  confident  that  I  am  not  mis- 
taken in  Beverly's  caliber — I  have  had  proof  of  his 
limitations  and  pray  do  not  think  me  presumptuous, 
sir,  when  I  add  that  I  believe  I  realize  enough  of  your 
daughter's  nature  to  know  that  it  will  sooner  or  later 
impose  some  test  which  Beverly  cannot  meet." 

"You  have  referred  to  some  proof,"  suggested  the 
older  man  tentatively;  "I  should  like  to  have  it,  if 
only  as  a  corroboration  of  what  I  have  already  felt." 

"I  have  spoken  of  nothing  that  has  any  bearing  upon 
his  morals,  political  or  otherwise.  Indeed,  as  I  said 
only  a  moment  ago,  I  think  it  would  be  difficult  to  pene- 
trate that  armour.  What  I  have  in  mind  was  a  very 
trifling  incident  that  came  within  the  range  of  my  ob- 
servation. It  is  in  fact  quite  too  trivial  to  mention." 

His  tone  was  final,  and  it  was  quite  evident  that  he 
did  not  care  to  go  on. 

"And  yet  in  some  way,"  said  the  Senator,  holding 


THE    DAYSMAN  345 

him  firmly  to  the  point,  "this  apparently  trivial  inci- 
dent helped  to  establish  your  opinion  of  the  man?" 

"Yes,"  admitted  Treverin  reluctantly,  "although  I 
can  assure  you,  sir,  that  I  know  men  with  whom  it 
wouldn't  count." 

"But  with  you?"  persisted  the  old  man  eagerly. 

"With  me,"  Treverin  was  honestly  frank  at  last  and 
spoke  without  further  reservation,  "with  me  it  simply 
damned  him." 

"Tell  me  about  it,  please,"  and  in  Senator  Minturn's 
tone  there  was  the  quiet  force  of  a  righteous  demand. 
For  a  moment  the  room  was  very  still.  Blush  roses 
nodded  just  beyond  the  wide  windows  through  wnich 
their  fine  fragrance  drifted  on  a  gentle  breeze  that 
brought  also  the  heavier  scent  of  the  jasmine  and  sweet 
odors  of  the  honeysuckle  vines  that  clung  about  the 
easement.  (It  seemed  but  an  intangible  survival — this 
subtle  aroma — of  more  definite  realities,  and  yet  it  held 
the  commingled  essence  of  an  old-time  loveliness  that 
had  come  down  to  them  out  of  the  past.) 

"My  code  of  honor,"  began  Treverin  quietly, 
"brands,  without  further  hearing,  the  person  who  is 
capable  of  mistaking  the  man  who  is  not  a  fool  for  a 
fool,  as  well  as  the  person  who  is  guilty  of  failing  to 
apprehend  that  the  slightest  confusion  on  his  part  be- 
tween a  gentleman  and  a  menial  is  damning." 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  Senator  Minturn.  There  was  sym- 
pathy in  his  tone  and  a  thrill  of  slow  satisfaction,  for 
John  Treverin  had  at  last  responded  to  his  appeal  from 
"the  laxity  of  a  degenerate  present"  to  the  standards 
of  his  ideal  "past." 


346  THE   DAYSMAN 

"My  estimate  of  Senator  Beverly,"  went  on  John 
Treverin  quickly,  "was  formed  about  three  years  ago. 
There  was  a  secret  and  confidential  mission  abroad 
which  my  grandfather  had  undertaken  to  carry  through 
for  the  Government.  It  had  been  found  necessary  to  se- 
cure the  services  of  a  man  of  some  training  and  experi- 
ence in  international  law  who  should  be  absolutely 
trustworthy,  generally  known  as  having  no  business 
affiliations  with  us  and  usually  thought  of  as  bearing 
no  definite  commission  from  the  government.  Just 
such  a  man,  in  fact,  as  was  then  acting,  I  was  told,  in 
the  capacity  of  private  secretary  to  Senator  Beverly, 
who,  it  was  suggested,  would,  no  doubt,  be  willing  to 
spare  him  for  such  a  purpose.  Without  delay,  there- 
fore, I  made  an  appointment  to  talk  the  matter  over 
at  Beverly's  office,  and  came  down  to  Washington, 
where  I  found  the  Senator  very  obliging  and  entirely 
ready  to  cooperate  in  our  plans,  providing  the  secre- 
tary himself  were  willing  to  undertake  the  mission. 
Having  courteously  suggested,  moreover,  an  immediate 
conference,  to  which,  of  course,  I  readily  assented,  Bev- 
erly leaned  over,  touched  a  bell  and  added  thoughtfully 
that  he  should  leave  us  alone  together  as  soon  as  he 

had  introduced  Mr.  A .    It  is  needless  to  tell  you 

that  I  was  already  prepossessed  in  Beverly's  favor. 

"And  now  for  the  secretary!" 

Jack  Treverin  paused  for  a  moment  after  the  excla- 
mation and  then  went  on  evenly. 

"I  had  been  led  to  believe,  my  dear  Senator,  that  Mr. 

A was  a  gentleman.    Of  his  mental  equipment  and 

qualifications  I  had  already  assured  myself;  and,  as  to 


THE    DAYSMAN  347 

his  social  status,  if  I  were  to  mention  his  name  in  con- 
nection with  his  birthplace  it  would  suggest  to  you  the 
bluest  blood  that  our  country  can  boast.  But  even  had 
a  stranger  been  ignorant  of  these  facts  the  bearing  of 
the  man  would,,  alone,  have  been  conclusive  evidence 
that  he  was  worthy  of  his  ancestry,  for  there  was  about 
him  an  air  of  distinction  which  is  far  from  ordinary,  a 
look  of  breeding  which  is  most  unusual. 

"Imagine,  therefore,  my  surprise,  sir,  when,  in  re- 
sponse to  a  summons  which  you  or  I  would  reserve  for 
a  servant,  the  secretary  walked  into  the  room. 

"The  man's  face  was  a  study,"  went  on  Treverin  in 
an  even  tone,  seeming  not  to  notice  the  sudden  gleam 
of  anger  that  had  leapt  into  the  Senator's  eyes;  ap- 
pearing not  to  hear  the  quick  indignant  exclamation 
that  had  escaped  the  Senator's  lips.  "It  made  me 
think  of  the  old  adage,  'No  decent,  sensible  or  well- 
bred  man  will  e'er  insult  thee  and  no  other  can.'  As 
for  his  hands,  I  could  have  sworn,  my  dear  sir,  that  the 
clenched  stillness  and  fierce  control  of  those  hands  left 
the  record  of  nail  prints  to  mark  the  right  royal  ruling 
of  a  passionate  spirit,"  finished  Treverin  with  frank 
enthusiasm. 

"So  Clarence  Beverly,"  flashed  Senator  Minturn, 
with  unfeigned  contempt,  "is  the  sort  of  man  who, 
'clothed  with  a  little  brief  authority,  plays  such  fan- 
tastic tricks  before  high  heaven  as  make  the  angels 
weep'!" 

"Beverly  performed  the  introduction,"  continued 
Treverin  with  a  reminiscent  smile,  of  humorous  toler- 
ance, "and  then  added  with  a  pomposity  so  ridiculous, 


348  THE   DAYSMAN 

that  it  was  almost  laughable,  'You  will  remain  with  Mr. 

Treverin,  Mr.  A and  learn  from  him  the  object  of 

his  errand.' 

"It  might  interest  you,  Senator,  to  know,"  added 
Jack  Treverin,  presently,  "that  I  learned  afterward 
enough  about  Mr.  A to  assure  me  that  my  first  im- 
pressions had  been  true.  An  unlucky  combination  of 
circumstances,  it  seems,  had  deprived  the  man  of  that 
supremacy  to  which  he  was  entitled  by  birth  and  had 
compelled  him  to  submit  to  indignity  rather  than  run 
the  risk  of  losing  that  competency  which  could  keep 
him  and  those  dependent  upon  him  free  from  the  bur- 
den of  debt.  A  few  years  later,  however,  I  understand, 
that  his  fortunes  changed  and  he  became  entirely  in- 
dependent of  Beverly's  patronage." 

"I  can  imagine,"  replied  Senator  Minturn  with  a 
keen  glance  into  Jack's  face,  "that  the  mission  and  you 
had  something  to  do  with  that." 

"It  was  A 's  ability,  I  assure  you,  my  dear  Sen- 
ator," rejoined  the  other  without  a  moment's  hesita- 
tion, and  his  quick  disclaimer  of  altruistic  motives  did 
not  displease  the  older  man,  "even  Beverly  accorded 
a  certain  amount  of  generous  recognition  to  his  secre- 
tary's mental  gifts.  It  was  only  his  peculiar  limita- 
tions that  prevented  a  true  appreciation  of  the  quality 
of  the  man." 

"And  do  you  think,  Mr.  Treverin,"  demanded  Sen- 
ator Minturn  with  some  warmth,  "that  I  shall  ever 
consent  to  my  daughter's  marrying  a  man  like  that?" 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Senator,"  returned  Jack,  ear- 
nestly as  he  leaned  forward  suddenly  and  placed  one 


THE    DAYSMAN  349 

hand  on  the  arm  of  the  other's  chair,  "but  I  would 
rather  you  didn't  use  this  information  I — "  he  waited 
a  moment  and  then  went  on — "Just  before  making  the 
inadvertent  remark  which  introduced  this  subject,  I 
suggested,  I  think,  that  I  meant  to  play  fair." 

"I  shall  promise,"  returned  the  older  man  quietly, 
"to  use  this  knowledge  only  in  a  last  extremity  after," 
and  he  smiled  whimsically,  "you  have  given  to  Time 
and  to  Beverly  the  full  benefit  of  a  doubt  that  no  longer 
exists.  But  if  it  ever  became  necessary,"  and  his  flash- 
ing eyes  looked  directly  into  Treverin's  own,  "to  save 
my  daughter  from  that  soul  tragedy  which  makes  havoc 
of  a  refined  woman's  happiness — I  refer,  sir,  to  mar- 
riage with  a  spiritual  plebeian — then,  sir,  I  should  use 
it  as  surely  as  I  should  use  the  only  means  at  hand  to 
pull  a  drowning  man  from  a  whirlpool. 

"I  know  my  daughter,  Mr.  Treverin."  His  fine  head 
was  erect  and  he  spoke  with  the  noble  pride  of  his  race. 
"She  may  have  been  wilful  in  leaning  too  far  to  her 
own  judgment;  she  has  not  been  wise  in  depending  so 
entirely  upon  her  own  estimate  of  the  essentials  in  life ; 
but  there  are  times,  sir,  when  blood  speaks,  and  her 
blood  could  forgive  almost  any  crime  more  easily  than 
this." 

"So  be  it,  then,"  returned  the  young  man  gravely. 
"I  wonder,  sir,"  he  added  after  a  moment  of  silence, 
"what  you  think  now  about  my  accepting  your  de- 
lightful invitation.  Do  you  imagine  that  I  can  afford 
to  give  myself  one  more  day,  at  least?"  His  lips 
smiled  but  his  eyes  were  thoughtful. 

"I  can  trust  you,"  returned  Senator  Minturn,  with 


350  THE    DAYSMAN 

frank  simplicity,  as  he  put  out  his  hand;  "I  can  trust 
you  in  this  matter,  Mr.  Treverin,  as  I  hardly  dare  to 
trust  myself." 

"Friendship  shall  be  the  watchword,  sir,"  smiled 
Treverin  whimsically.  "Friendship  to  the  last  ditch, 
and  then,  please  heaven,  love." 

"May  God  grant  it!"  exclaimed  the  older  man  fer- 
vently. 


THE    DAYSMAN  351 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"God,  give  us  men!     A  time  like  this  demands 

Strong  minds,  great  hearts,  true  faith  and  willing  hands, 

Men  whom  the  lust  of  office  does  not  kill; 

Men  whom  the  spoils  of  office  cannot  buy; 

Men  who  possess  opinions   and  a  will; 

Men  who  have  honor;  men  who  will  not  lie; 

Men  who  can  stand  before  a  demagogue 

And  damn  his  treacherous  flatteries  without  winking; 

Tall  men,  sun-crowned,  who  live  above  the  fog 

In  public  duty  and  in  private  thinking. 

For  while  the  rabble,  with  their  thumb-worn  creeds, 

Their  large  professions  and  their  little  deeds, 

Mingle  in  selfish  strife,  lo!  freedom  weeps; 

Wrong  rules  the  land,  and  waiting  justice  sleeps." 

FOUR  days  later,  when  Treverin  took  leave  of  Senator 
Minturn  and  his  daughter,  the  outward  relation  of  the 
young  people  was,  apparently,  unchanged.  The  girl 
herself,  perhaps,  was  conscious  of  a  slight  chill  of  dis- 
appointment in  the  fact  that  Treverin — whom  she  had 
suspected  of  a  large  capacity  for  friendship  as  well  as 
of  caring  very  much  to  establish  some  such  relation  be- 
tween himself  and  her — should  have  made  so  little 
headway  when  opportunity  was  given. 

It  was,  she  thought,  his  absolute  freedom  from  self- 
consciousness  that  had  always  attracted  her  most;  yet 
here,  somehow,  he  seemed  to  be  so  constantly  on  guard, 
and  so  strangely  afraid  of  spontaneity  as  to  appear, 
almost,  to  be  reining  in  his  truant  sympathies. 


352  THE   DAYSMAN 

Between  the  young  man  and  her  father,  on  the  other 
hand,  she  had  noticed  the  steady  growth  of  mutual 
understanding  and  confidence.  Of  their  swiftness  of 
mental  touch,  she  had  always  been  more  or  less  aware 
and  it  was  this  quality,  she  knew,  which  lay  at  the 
root  of  her  father's  deepest  affections,  just  as  the  lack 
of  it  was  the  foundation  principle  of  his  most  violent 
antipathies.  With  the  sureness  of  a  woman's  intuition, 
moreover,  she  realized  the  presence  of  some  new  sym- 
pathy whose  existence  had  changed  the  quality  of  their 
relation;  which  had  in  it,  now,  some  suggestion  of  the 
heart,  although,  as  formerly,  the  secret  of  their  attrac- 
tion was  not  less  essentially  of  the  mind.  It  seemed 
to  her,  at  times,  as  though  her  father  were  coming 
gradually  to  lean  upon  the  judgment  of  the  younger 
man ;  to  rely,  almost,  upon  his  decisions. 

Even  in  so  small  a  matter  as  the  day  of  Treverin's 
departure,  Senator  Minturn  had  acquiesced  in  his 
guest's  decision — that  it  would  be  impossible  for  him  to 
remain  longer  than  Monday — without  the  usual  gentle 
urging  that  had  always  characterized  his  proverbial 
hospitality.  Where  she  had  expected  him  to  be  press- 
ing he  had  not  even  entered  the  most  formal  protest, 
but  had  simply  responded  with  a  "Do  exactly  as  you 
think  best,  my  dear  Jack." 

The  cordial  cameraderie  of  that  particular  form  of 
address  had  not  been  the  least  of  her  many  surprises, 
for,  never  in  her  life,  had  she  known  her  father  to 
honor  so  recent  an  acquaintance  with  the  intimate  use 
of  his  family  nickname.  It  had  been  one  of  Clarence's 
pet  grievances,  indeed,  that  he  was  still  most  punctili- 


THE   DAYSMAN  353 

ously  kept  on  a  "my  dear  Senator  Beverly"  basis,  even 
in  the  informal  privacy  of  their  inner  home-circle. 

There  was  some  mystery  behind  this  new  bond  of 
union  that  she  did  not  pretend  to  understand,  although 
she  found  herself  wishing  vaguely  that  her  father 
would  volunteer  an  explanation — for  which  she  would 
not  have  asked — of  that  business  about  which  Treverin 
had  written  just  prior  to  his  coming. 

Jack  was  just  gone;  he  had  turned  and  waved  them 
a  last  good-bye  when  his  horse  had  reached  the  crest  of 
the  hill,  and  the  girl,  with  a  sudden  yearning  for  com- 
panionship which  she  did  not  at  all  understand,  slipped 
her  hand  through  her  father's  arm  and  began  to  pace 
with  him  slowly  up  and  down  the  long  veranda. 

"You  enjoyed  him,  dearest!"  she  exclaimed  with  im- 
pulsive enthusiasm.  "Without  question,  he  is  one  of 
the  most  versatile  and  interesting  men  I  have  ever 
known. ' ' 

"John  Treverin  is  more  than  interesting,  daughter," 
corrected  Senator  Minturn  quietly.  "He  has  the  fibre 
of  a  gentleman  with  the  quiet  strength  and  forceful 
simplicity  of  a  thoroughly  manly  man." 

"Which  means,"  she  returned  lightly,  although  she 
was  conscious  of  a  sharp  twinge  of  regret  that  her 
father  had  never  spoken  so  unreservedly  in  praise  of 
Beverly,  "which  means,  dearest,  that  you  and  Mr. 
Treverin  have  many  traditions  and  some  tastes  in  com- 
mon; that,  since  thought  is  an  inheritance  with  you 
both,  your  ideas  frequently  harmonize,  even  though 
you  sometimes  differ  in  opinion." 

"It  seems  to  me,  daughter,  that  you  have  gotten  at 


354  THE    DAYSMAN 

the  root  principle  of  all  true  friendships,  and  is  it  not 
also  the  only  safe  basis  for  any  real  love?"  asked  her 
father  gravely,  as  he  laid  his  other  hand  over  the  fin- 
gers that  rested  on  his  arm. 

"I'm  so  glad,  dearest,"  and  she  reached  up  quickly 
and  lightly  patted  his  cheek,   "that  I  don't  have  to 

worry  about  love,   except "   she  corrected  hastily 

when  she  saw  that  a  shadow  had  darkened  his  eyes — 
"except  as  a  very  definite  feeling  for  you,  of  whose 
depth,  padra  mia,  I  have  always  been  very  very  sure." 

"And  are  you  finding  friendship  entirely  satisfying, 
daughter?"  he  asked  gently. 

Only  once  had  she  ever  attempted  to  define  for  her 
father  something  of  the  nature  of  her  sentiment  re- 
garding Beverly  and  the  look  of  pain  and  horror  with 
which  he  had  received  the  communication  haunted  her 
still,  sometimes,  in  memory.  Her  explanation  that 
Clarence  understood  and  was  perfectly  satisfied  was  so 
far  from  an  alleviation  to  his  very  evident  misery  that 
the  subject  had  never  since  then  been  mentioned  be- 
tween them.  Before  leaving  it,  however,  Senator  Min- 
turn  had  told  her  plainly,  "as  a  parental  duty,"  he  had 
said,  that  he  considered  marriage  upon  such  a  basis  a 
travesty  and  a  sacrilege ;  he  had  warned  her,  moreover, 
that  eventually  her  true  nature  must  assert  itself,  and 
condemn  all  such  sophistry  as  untrue  and  unworthy. 

She  understood,  therefore,  exactly,  the  meaning  that 
lay  behind  that  last  question  which  he  had  been  too 
delicately  tactful  to  put  more  directly. 

"Not  always,  dearest,"  she  had  replied  truthfully, 
and  he  noticed  that  a  flash  of  troubled  doubt  had  crept 


THE   DAYSMAN  355 

into  the  clear  eyes,  "but  usually  where  a  friendship 
seems  not  quite  satisfying  the  difficulty,  I  find,  lies 
chiefly  with  myself."  She  hesitated  a  moment,  then 
went  on  thoughtfully:  "I  believe  I'm  inclined  to  ex- 
pect too  much,  dearest,  like  the  child,  I'm  afraid,  who 
cried  for  the  moon."  Her  smile  was  half  humorous 
and  half  sad,  for  it  was  bitterness  to  acknowledge,  even 
to  herself,  the  dawn  of  her  disillusions,  or  was  it  only 
the  flight  of  her  more  definite  illusions? 

"A  woman,  daughter,"  answered  Senator  Minturn 
with  gentle  firmness,  "never  cries  for  the  moon  when 
she  is  entirely  happy ;  the  child 's  ignorance  entitles  it  to 
indefinite  ambitions,  but  a  woman's  knowledge  de- 
mands more  definite  satisfaction." 

Rather  curiously  she  remembered,  just  then,  hove 
she  had  asked  Treverin  only  last  night  if  he  ever  felt 
tempted  to  cry  for  the  moon.  He  had  been  resting  idly 
on  his  oars  at  the  time  with  his  eyes  upon  the  crescent 
that  hovered  over  the  river  and  she  had  wondered  If 
it  were  only  the  wierd  reflection  of  an  uncertain  light 
that  gave  such  a  strange  and  peculiar  power  to  the 
expression  of  his  eyes  when  he  replied,  somewhat  enig- 
matically, it  had  seemed  to  her,  at  the  time. 

"If  I  haven't  cried  for  it,  it  isn't  that  I  don't  want 
it,  you  know,  but  rather,  I  fear,  because  I'm  one  of 
those  sublime  egotists  who  expects  to  realize  his  ambi- 
tion some  day;  for  I  have,  my  dear  Miss  Minturn,"  he 
had  added  humorously,  "unbounded  faith  in  that 
bright  particular  star  which  is  supposed  to  guide  a  man 
in  the  achievement  of  his  destiny." 

Her  father  was  also  thinking  of  something  Treverin 


356  THE   DAYSMAN 

had  said  to  him  later  in  the  same  evening  (after  the  girl 
had  told  them  "good-night")  of  the  frank  way  in 
which  the  younger  man  had  acknowledged  that  he  was 
really  compelled  to  go  because  he  didn't  dare  trust  him- 
self to  stay. 

"The  fact  is,  sir,"  he  had  declared  with  a  gravity 
which  had  caused  the  older  man  to  smile  under  cover 
of  the  darkness,  "I'm  far  more  violently  and  helplessly 
in  love  than  I  realized  and  you  can't  imagine  what  it 
means,  my  dear  Senator,  to  be  with  your  daughter,  to 
be  so  constantly  near  her,  without  the  power  to  speak 
and  to  tell  her  what  I  feel!" 

It  was  true.  All  the  romance  which  lay  at  the  root 
of  John  Treverin's  nature,  germinating  through  the 
years,  beneath  the  stern  surface  of  a  hard  business  ca- 
reer, had  developed  in  the  sunshine  of  this  woman's 
presence,  a  sudden  splendor  of  efflorescent  bloom  that 
completely  amazed  the  man  whose  practical  mind  had 
planned  first  for  the  green  leafage  of  a  normal  and 
logical  friendship. 

His  determination  not  to  tell  the  girl  of  his  attitude 
toward  herself  until  she  should  first  (of  her  own  ac- 
cord) have  broken  with  Clarence  Beverly,  was  the  out- 
growth of  a  profound  conviction  that  it  would  have 
been  both  unchivalrous  and  unkind  to  complicate  the 
issues  before  she,  by  her  own  discovery  of  a  vital  mis- 
take, should  have  completed  the  difficult  task  of  finding 
herself.  He  believed,  moreover,  that  he  understood 
something  of  the  mental  processes  through  which  she 
had  allowed  herself  to  become  the  fiancee  of  his  rival, 
and  the  motive  of  his  Quixotism  was  a  generoug  wish 


THE   DAYSMAN  357 

to  shield  the  woman  he  loved  from  the  overmastering 
power  of  his  own  passion  rather  than  a  desire  to  spare 
a  man  whom  he  considered  unworthy  of  consideration. 

He  had  made,  therefore,  no  effort  to  kindle  her  inter- 
est nor  had  he  attempted  to  awaken  her  love  and  yet, 
strangely  enough,  Carroll  Minturn  had  come  under  the 
spell  of  his  self-contained  reserve  more  quickly  than 
she  could  have  responded  to  any  other  appeal.  Through 
his  very  silence  she  had  grown  to  realize  the  latent 
fineness  of  the  man  as  she  might  never  have  done  by 
means  of  the  more  elaborate  eloquence  of  speech. 

Neither  father  nor  daughter  spoke  for  a  few  mo- 
ments after  Senator  Minturn 's  last  remark;  he,  be- 
cause he  wanted  her  to  have  time  to  realize  the  full  sig- 
nificance of  his  words;  she,  because  she  felt  the  inade- 
quacy of  such  a  reply  as  it  would  be  possible  for  her 
to  make. 

Presently,  however,  she  ventured  a  change  of  sub- 
ect  with  the  tentative  question: 

"Were  you  and  Mr.  Treverin  plotting  the  discomfi- 
ture of  your  enemies  in  the  anti- joint  statehood  cam- 
paign? I  rather  fancied,"  with  a  demure  smile,  "that 
those  frequent  private  conferences  meant  mischief." 

She  had  withdrawn  her  hand  from  his  arm  and  was 
reaching  up  to  break  a  spray  of  honeysuckle  from  the 
vine  that  encircled  one  of  the  pillars  of  the  portico. 
Apparently  she  was  more  absorbed  in  the  operation 
than  in  their  desultory  conversation  and  yet  her  father 
knew  how  intently  she  was  listening  for  his  reply. 

"Perhaps  they  did,"  he  replied  with  a  twinkle  as 
he  pinched  her  cheek,  "but  I  am  so  very  sure  that  what 


358  THE    DAYSMAN 

we  said  could  not  interest  you  just  now,  at  least,  that 
I  don't  intend  to  bore  you  by  repeating  it.  I  shall  tell 
you  instead,"  he  added  mischievously,  "about  the  new 
point  of  attack  that  Senator  Beverly  and  his  colleagues 
will  adopt  at  the  next  session.  They  have  quite  deter- 
mined, it  seems,  to  force  joint  statehood  upon  Arizona 
and  New  Mexico,  whether  the  territories  will  or  no,  and 
the  battle  over  it  promises  to  be  exciting." 

He  laid  his  arm  across  her  shoulders  affectionately, 
and  began  again  their  slow  promenade,  during  which 
he  told  her  with  quivering  nostril  and  flashing  eye  of 
the  forthcoming  political  contest.  Something  of  the 
history  of  the  bill,  for  the  joint  statehood  of  Arizona 
and  New  Mexico,  which  had  passed  the  lower  House  of 
Congress  at  the  last  session  and  had  been  so  narrowly 
defeated  in  the  Senate,  the  girl  already  knew.  That 
Beverly  in  the  van  of  the  majority  had  stood  loyally 
with  that  clique  known  as  Administration  Senators,  in 
all  the  many  statehood  battles,  while  her  father,  a 
strong  and  impassioned  leader  of  the  minority  had  as 
strenuously  opposed  the  measure  from  its  earliest  in- 
ception, she  was  also  fully  aware.  She  had  never 
known  Senator  Minturn  to  discuss  the  question  with 
her  lover,  in  private,  although  she  was  cognizant  of 
the  fact  that  he  had  more  than  once  pilloried  Beverly 
in  forensic  debate  for  an  attitude  which  he  professed  to 
be  unable  to  understand. 

Until  Treverin's  advent  she  had  instinctively  held 
herself  aloof  from  the  issues  that  divided  the  two  men 
in  whose  careers  she  was  most  vitally  interested,  believ- 
ing that  the  differences  between  them  were  engendered 


THE   DAYSMAN  359 

by  an  opposition  that  was  essentially  political  and, 
therefore,  not  to  be  eradicated.  Since  Jack's  coming, 
however,  her  attitude  had  been  unconsciously  chang- 
ing. She  had  been  compelled  to  hear  Treverin's  dis- 
cussion with  her  father  of  a  subject  to  which  each  man 
brought  an  individual  point  of  view.  She  had  been 
forced  to  consider  a  question  upon  which,  even  though 
political  opponents,  they  had  come  at  length,  to  unite. 
And  now  and  then — below  the  surface  of  the  argu- 
ment, she  caught  fleeting  glimpses  of  the  characters 
that  backed  their  opinions;  characters  whose  striking 
similarity  had  been  developed  along  lines  that  di- 
verged more  widely  even  than  the  tenets  of  their  op- 
posing political  creeds.  Vaguely,  at  last,  through  her 
growing  comprehension  of  the  grim  subtleties  of  con- 
trast, she  began  to  understand  how  there  might  be 
some  reason  that  was  not  entirely  antipathetic  in  her 
father's  antagonism  to  Beverly;  some  quality  that 
made  his  dislike  of  Clarence  assume  for  the  first  time  a 
significance  larger  than  that  of  prejudice. 

Gradually  she  had  come  to  perceive  that  it  would 
be  no  longer  possible  for  her  to  ignore  the  relative  im- 
portance of  a  legislative  measure  against  which  strong 
men  of  two  opposing  political  faiths  were  voluntarily 
choosing  to  range  themselves.  For,  however  innocent 
of  ulterior  motive  it  had  been  in  its  earliest  origin, 
there  was  no  denying  the  fact  that  the  Hamilton  bill, 
providing  as  it  did,  for  the  consolidation  into  a  single 
state  of  Arizona  and  New  Mexico  as  well  as  for  the 
making  of  one  commonwealth  out  of  Oklahoma  and  In- 
dian Territory,  had,  at  length,  in  the  hands  of  astute 


360  THE   DAYSMAN 

politicians,  who  were  themselves  but  puppets,  moving 
in  response  to  a  master  hand,  become  the  personal  in- 
strument of  an  iron  will  and  was  being  used,  through 
a  prostitution  of  the  legislative  function,  for  the  fur- 
therance of  party  interests. 

The  measure  which  had  first  been  brought  in  as  a 
compromise  reached  by  members  of  the  House  Com- 
mittee on  Territories  (without  inquiring  into  the  wishes 
of  the  Southwesterners  or  consulting  their  delegates  in 
Congress)  had,  in  its  original  form,  been  twice  passed 
through  the  House  in  spite  of  the  strenuous  opposition 
of  the  Democratic  minority  aided  by  a  large  body  of  in- 
dependent Republicans  whose  refusal  to  be  coerced  into 
voting  contrary  to  their  convictions,  even  on  a  partisan 
issue,  had  reduced  the  majority  to  a  margin  of  forty- 
four  votes. 

Twice  in  the  history  of  this  legislative  measure  there 
had  been  presented  to  acute  observers  of  the  modern 
changes  and  latest  developments  in  our  system  of  pop- 
ular government,  the  curious  and  impressive  spectacles 
of  absolutism,  in  the  innocuous  guise  of  a  Committee 
on  Rules  and  of  despotism,  backed  by  an  authoritative 
"communique"  from  one  of  the  most  alert  and  auto- 
cratic politicians  in  the  country,  holding  undisputed 
control  over  the  House  of  Representatives,  limiting  de- 
bate, cutting  off  intervening  motions,  prohibiting 
amendments,  and  arbitrarily  fixing  the  time  for  a  vote. 

Defeat  of  the  bill  had  been  both  times  effected  in 
the  Senate,  but,  so  small  was  the  margin  by  which 
victory  had  been  achieved,  and  so  prompt  the  avowal 
of  friends  and  advocates  of  the  measure  of  their  de- 


THE   DAYSMAN  361 

termination  to  renew  every  effort  at  the  next  session 
of  Congress  for  the  resuscitation  and  ultimate  passage 
of  the  bill  that  the  Arizonians  had  taken  alarm  and 
were  vigorously  protesting  against  an  amalgamation 
to  which  they  were  opposed  from  geographical,  racial 
and  constitutional  reasons. 

Denying  the  moral  right  of  Congress  to  force  upon 
them  the  projected  mesalliance  because  of  that  consti- 
tutional provision  that  "no  new  state  shall  be  formed 
by  the  juncture  of  two  or  more  states  or  parts  of 
states  without  the  consent  of  the  Legislatures  of  the 
states  as  well  as  of  the  Congress,"  they  also  averred 
that  the  good  faith  of  the  Government  demanded  that 
it  hold  as  inviolate  a  pledge  made  to  them  by  that  for- 
mer Congress  which  had,  in  1863,  passed  the  organic 
act  creating  the  Territory  of  Arizona,  by  which  it  had 
been  provided,  "that  said  Government  shall  be  main- 
tained until  such  time  as  the  people  residing  in  the 
Territory  shall  apply  for  and  obtain  admission  as  a 
state  on  an  equal  footing  with  the  original  states." 

"And  this,"  said  Senator  Minturn,  referring  to  the 
question  of  the  pledge,  "will,  we  believe,  be  the  direct 
point  of  attack  at  the  next  session.  Beverly  is  said  to 
ridicule  the  pledge ;  to  have  declared  that  it  is  not  legal 
and,  therefore,  not  binding,  as  a  contract.  Strictly 
speaking,  this  is  true;  the  pledge  is  not  a  contract  en- 
forcible  in  the  courts.  Specific  performance  of  it  can- 
not be  compelled  in  equity.  It  is  like  a  treaty  in  one 
sense.  It  is  binding  as  the  word  of  a  man  of  honor, 
binding  in  foro  conscientiae,  binding  in  honor;  and  if 
ever  there  was  a  pledge  which  ought  to  be  kept,  this 


362  THE   DAYSMAN 

pledge  made  by  the  Congress  of  the  United  States  away 
hack  in  1863  to  all  the  men  and  women  and  children 
who  have  gone  their  way  from  the  South  and  from 
the  New  England  States  and  the  Middle  Western 
States  to  the  plains  of  Arizona,  is  such.'  ' 

He  spoke  with  that  impassioned  utterance  which  was 
the  obvious  outgrowth  of  his  knowledge  of  and  love  for 
the  old  American  traditions. 

"Richard  Wood  has  written  Treverin  that  the  op- 
position to  the  bill  in  Arizona  may  be  fairly  described 
as  unanimous;  that  ninety-five  per  cent,  of  the  people 
are  opposed  to  the  idea  of  a  jointure.  Oklahoma  and  In- 
dian Territory  have  in  a  measure  combined  forces  and 
are  united  on  the  question  of  joint  statehood  for  them- 
selves; the  recommendation,  therefore,  in  respect  to 
that  part  of  the  bill  meets  a  popular  demand;  but  Ok- 
lahoma cannot  be  gotten  into  the  Union  as  long  as  the 
bill  is  complicated  by  any  part  of  the  Arizona-New 
Mexico  proposition.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  the 
House  is  prevented  from  having  an  opportunity  to 
vote  on  the  question  directly  pertaining  to  the  admis- 
sion of  Oklahoma. 

"Absolute  justice,  however,  demands  that  the  clause 
referring  to  the  two  Southwestern  Territories  be  strik- 
en out  of  the  measure.  To  do  otherwise  would  be  to 
violate  the  sensibilities  of  an  entire  people;  no  terri- 
tory has  ever  been  forced  into  statehood  against  its 
will.  Such  an  arbitrary  act  of  Cfesarism  is  unprece- 
dented in  American  history.  It  is  a  political  crime  of 
such  magnitude  that  its  evil  consequences  must  forever 
dog  the  steps  of  its  perpetrator  shadowing  him  to  the 


THE   DAYSMAN  363 

downfall  of  a  reputation  which  has  gained  and  held  its 
own  in  the  sympathies  of  the  mass  of  the  people  be- 
cause of  a  general  aim  at  the  ideal  in  spite  of  a  loose 
method  of  attainment. 

"The  real  animus  of  the  measure  is  opposition  to  the 
growing  power  of  the  West."  His  voice  was  low  and 
intense  but  vibrant  with  suppressed  emotion.  The  girl 
listened  in  breathless  silence,  thrilled  by  a  power  that 
was  outside  of  herself.  His  head  was  erect,  his  eyes 
flashed  and  he  spoke  with  the  heroic  abandon  of  the 
old  patriots;  of  men  who  dared  to  rebel  against  a 
tyrannical  edict;  of  men  who  cared  only  for  the  ver- 
dict of  the  future,  for  the  proud  traditions  of  the 
race. 

"It  is  the  East  against  the  West;  just  as  in  sixty- 
three  at  the  heart  of  the  issue  lay  that  material  and 
political  rivalry  which  existed  between  the  Northern 
States  and  the  South.  This  is  the  party  which  as  an 
organization  condemned  the  fugitive  slave  law  as  sec- 
tional; and  yet  in  order  that  its  complex  political  ma- 
chinery may  be  run  more  smoothly,  in  order  that  the 
power  of  the  East  in  Federal  legislation  may  be  more 
easily  maintained;  because  of  the  fear  that  political 
advantage  may  be  lost;  it  is  considered  a  partisan  duty 
to  aid  in  joining  these  Territories — without  considera- 
tion of  the  interests  of  the  people,  even  when  by  doing 
so  a  fundamental  principle  of  liberty  is  violated;  a 
principle  of  liberty,  that  was  enunciated  in  the  famous 
Declaration  through  the  clause,  'that  all  governments 
derive  their  just  powers  from  the  consent  of  the  gov- 
erned. ' 


364  THE   DAYSMAN 

"Can  they  not  see  that  the  West  is  going  to  be  in  a 
rage  over  it  one  of  these  days,  if  the  scheme  shall  be 
fully  consummated?  But  it  will  not  be  consummated; 
the  measure  is  too  unstatesmanlike ;  too  grossly  im- 
proper; it  violates  too  flagrantly  the  spirit  of  the  con- 
stitution. The  principle  itself  is  wrong — subversive  of 
the  rights  of  the  people.  They  will  not,  I  think,  wel- 
come the  destruction  of  the  very  fabric  of  our  free 
institutions."  He  smiled  at  last  and  then  added  with 
light  irony:  "for  whether  or  no  the  genius  of  our  in- 
stitutions has  ceased  to  exist,  our  political  professions 
still  cluster  about  the  sentiment,  and  this  is  'a  govern- 
ment of  the  people,  by  the  people  and  for  the  people.'  " 


THE   DAYSMAN  365 


CHAPTER   IX. 

"Now,  in  the  names  of  all  the  gods  at  once, 

Upon  what  meat  doth  this  our  Caesar  feed, 

That  he  is  grown  so  great?  *  *  *  * 

Why,  man,  he  doth  bestride  the  narrow  world, 

Like  a  Colossus;  and  we  petty  men 

Walk  under  his  huge  legs,  and  peep  about 

To  find  ourselves  dishonorable  graves. 

Men  at  some  times  are  masters  of  their  fates! 

The  fault,  dear  Brutus,  is  not  in  our  stars, 

But  in  ourselves,     that  we  are  underlings. 
*    *    *    *    Age,  thou  art  ashamed! 
Rome,  thou  hast  lost  the  breed  of  noble  bloods! 
When  went  there  by  an  age,  since  the  great  flood, 
But  it  was  famed  with  more  than  with  one  man?" 

"And  the  Lord  Henry  was  a  great  debater, 

So  that  few  members  kept  the  House  up  later." 

IT  was  during  March  of  the  following  year  that  a 
savage  personal  attack  was  made  upon  Senator  Min- 
turn  on  the  floor  of  the  Upper  House. 

As  one  of  the  few  public  men  who  enjoyed  life  quiet- 
ly without  reaching  out  for  publicity,  he  had,  up  to 
that  time,  made  no  bitter  enemies.  If,  more  than 
once,  he  had  won  splendid  tributes  from  his  colleagues 
as  a  man  of  dignity,  character  and  political  acumen, 
he  had  as  well  merited  the  unusual  recognition  that 
had  come  to  him  from  his  opponents.  Wounds,  of 
course,  he  had  received,  but  they  had,  heretofore,  left 


366  THE    DAYSMAN 

only  such  scars  as  fall  to  the  lot  of  every  public  man 
who  must,  at  some  stage  of  his  career  have  offended 
others,  unless  indeed  he  have  the  misfortune  to  be  one 
of  those  agreeably  voiceless  persons  who  is  not  of  suf- 
ficient weight  to  make  his  presence  felt. 

Upon  the  statehood  issue,  however,  Senator  Minturn 
had  been  drawn,  much  against  his  will  and  contrary 
to  his  inclinations  into  the  arena  at  a  time  when  one 
of  the  bitterest  and  most  dramatic  battles  in  the  annals 
of  legislation  was  being  fought. 

Saturated  with  constitutional  doctrines  that  were 
coming  to  be  regarded  as  old-fashioned  and  almost  out- 
worn, he  was  one  of  the  first  to  see  the  far-reaching 
consequences,  the  drastic  and  revolutionary  character, 
of  a  bill  which  amounted  to  the  coercion  of  a  whole 
people  in  the  exercise  of  a  function  so  important  as  the 
creation  of  a  state.  To  thus  establish  as  a  precedent 
through  legislation  this  "ruthless  denial  of  the  prin- 
ciple of  self-government,"  appeared  to  him  as  so  ex- 
traordinary and  preposterous  a  policy  that  the  Senate 
amendments,  striking  from  the  statehood  bill  Arizona 
and  New  Mexico  and  admitting  only  Oklahoma  and 
Indian  Territory  as  one  state,  had  seemed  the  only  logi- 
cal conclusion  of  the  issue. 

After  a  fierce  but  inequal  fight  in  the  House,  the  so- 
called  "insurgents"  against  the  Republican  organiza- 
tion in  that  body,  had  once  more  gone  down  to  defeat, 
but  not  before  their  courageous  assault  upon  that  un- 
scrupulous political  bossism  (which  had  crept  into  the 
legislative  hall,  and  unsheathed  its  dagger  on  the  very 
footsteps  of  that  throne  where,  Democracy,  like  Ham- 


THE    DAYSMAN  367 

let,  had  been  thrust  to  be  crowned  in  death)  had  kindled 
a  sentiment  in  the  Senate  which  was  evidently  to  over- 
whelm the  jointure  scheme. 

When,  early  in  March,  the  bill  had  reached  the  de- 
liberative councils  of  the  upper  house,  the  machine  edi- 
fice that  had  for  so  long  stood  in  the  way  of  honest 
conviction  was  already  beginning  to  totter;  but  even 
among  the  elder  statesmen  there  was  some  strong  oppo- 
sition to  be  encountered,  because  a  measure  which 
could  assure  a  continuance  of  that  Republican  majority 
by  which  prestige  of  the  party  had  been  for  so  long  a. 
time  maintained  was  not  to  be  lightly  amended. 

The  two  Republican  Senators  who  would  in  all  prob- 
ability be  sent  up  from  the  Greater  Arizona,  offset  by 
two  Democrats  from  the  new  Oklahoma,  would  main- 
tain the  present  political  status  quo;  whereas  the  fu- 
ture possibility  of  four  Democratic  Senators  and  pos- 
sibly six  when  the  Southwestern  Territories  should 
have,  later,  come  separately  into  the  sisterhood  of 
states,  had,  necessarily,  to  be  taken  into  consideration. 

Among  those  at  first  in  favor  of  the  bill  in  its  origi- 
nal form  were  some  conservatives  of  the  old  school  who 
through  laudable  partisanship  had  been  swept  into  a 
mistaken  position  by  remarkable  and  misleading  state- 
ments made  by  persons  who  had  been  delegated  to  man- 
ufacture joint-statehood  sentiment  in  the  Territories. 
These  men,  undisturbed  by  the  violent  division  of  opin- 
ion, were  only  too  willing  to  be  convinced  that  the  Na- 
tion was  interested  in  amalgamation,  because,  until  the 
fate  of  the  few  remaining  Territories  was  decided,  the 
question  would  be  always  "bobbing  up"  in  Congress 


368  THE   DAYSMAN 

to  the  hindrance  and  delay  of  more  important  meas- 
ures. Moreover,  because  the  railway  and  mining  lobby 
was  said  to  be  using  some  money  to  prevent  the  pass- 
age of  the  bill,  these  men  refused  to  be  alarmed  by  that 
bogey  of  Republicanism,  the  interference  of  the  so- 
called  popular  will.  What  the  corporations  were  con- 
tending for  must  of  necessity  be  iniquitous  in  origin 
and  since,  in  the  inner  circle,  where  such  decisions 
were  formed,  it  had  been  determined  that  the  passage 
of  the  measure  was  for  the  best  interests  of  the  party 
as  well  as  for  the  good  of  the  Nation,  loyal  Republi- 
cans must,  of  necessity,  protest  against  the  action  to 
amend  it. 

With  a  large  body  of  independent  Republicans,  how- 
ever, it  had  come  a  time  when  political  exigency  and 
party  consideration  had  ceased  to  be  paramount  to  such 
intangible  realities  as  good  faith,  loyalty  to  duty  and 
honor  in  the  fulfilment  of  a  sacred  obligation.  They 
insisted  that  the  region  of  exact  justice  lay  beyond  the 
realm  of  partisan  politics  and,  therefore,  in  the  calm 
atmosphere  of  reason,  they  weighed  the  issue.  To  push 
the  measure,  they  declared,  could  only  be  an  arrogant 
usurpation  of  authority  and  they  even  went  so  far  as 
to  aver  that  the  idea  had  originated  with  other  undisci- 
plined impulses  in  a  single  lawless  mind. 

It  was  largely  due  to  the  influence  of  such  men  as 
these,  who  threw  their  weight  with  the  opposition  in 
spite  of  the  fact  that  the  measure  was  supported  by  the 
organization  of  their  own  party,  that  those  who  advo- 
cated the  passage  of  the  Hamilton  bill  were  outvoted 
by  the  Senate  when  it  cut  out  Arizona  and  New  Mex- 


THE   DAYSMAN  369 

ico;  confining  the  operation  of  the  bill  to  Oklahoma 
and  Indian  Territory. 

The  debate  had  been  one  of  the  most  acrid  in  the  re- 
cent history  of  legislation  and  Carroll  Minturn,  inter- 
ested at  last,  had  been  a  witness  of  the  most  exciting 
scenes  in  both  the  Senate  and  the  House. 

The  winter  had  been  an  unusually  gay  and  brilliant 
one  in  Washington  and  the  girl,  contrary  to  her  usual 
custom,  had  thrown  herself  into  the  whirl  of  the  sea- 
son's social  and  political  activities. 

"I  am  so  tired  of  reasoning  things  out,  was  the  way 
she  explained  the  change,  in  what  she  had,  herself, 
once  characterized  as  the  "method"  of  her  life.  Her 
father,  in  whom  her  unwonted  restlessness  aroused  a 
vague  anxiety,  had  called  forth  the  remark  by  asking, 
gently,  if  she  were  quite  well,  and  suggesting  somewhat 
tentatively  that  she  hardly  seemed  her  usual  self. 

"I  intend,  dearest,"  she  had  responded  quickly,  "to 
let  myself  drift  with  the  current  for  a  time,  and  to 
see  if  that  won't  make  life  a  trifle  less  complex."  And 
so  she  had  been  drifting  gradually  into  an  interest 
in  this  much  mooted  statehood  issue,  that  rather  sur- 
prised herself.  It  was  an  interest  through  which,  with- 
out realizing  it,  she  was  brought  into  more  frequent 
touch  with  Treverin,  whom  she  met  now  and  then  in 
the  gallery  of  the  Senate  and  ran  across,  sometimes, 
down  at  the  House.  He,  for  his  part,  was  finding  a 
rather  perilous  enjoyment  in  watching  the  progress  of 
the  issue  as  it  developed  through  her  eyes. 

They  were  together  on  several  of  those  memorable 
occasions,  when  Beverly,  who  had  all  along  been  in- 


370  THE   DAYSMAN 

tensely  loyal  to  the  organization  had,  as  one  of  its  most 
gifted  speakers,  raised  his  "golden  voice"  in  defense 
of  the  Hamilton  bill.  Once,  Treverin  had  praised  with 
generous  enthusiasm  his  rival's  delivery  and,  at  an- 
other time,  he  had  said  that  Beverly  could  always  De 
depended  upon  for  a  manful  and  outspoken  defense 
of  his  party.  To  which  the  girl  had  responded  rather 
absently,  he  had  thought,  not  knowing  how  desperately 
she  was  trying  all  the  while  to  stifle  the  questions  which, 
like  Banquo's  ghost,  rose  always  to  sit  at  the  banquets 
of  life. 

"She  was  glad,"  she  told  herself,  "glad  always"  to 
hear  such  encomiums  of  her  lover.  Why,  then,  should 
she  be  constantly  wondering  if  Clarence  always  fought 
above  the  surface,  or  if  he  were  capable  of  doing  oth- 
erwise, should  his  political  life  require  it. 

She  had  been  present  at  one  session,  indeed,  when 
during  an  exciting  debate,  he  had  been  accused  by  a 
prominent  Senator,  whose  recent  defection  from  the 
ranks  had  called  forth  Beverly's  bitter  denunciation, 
of  transcending  the  laws  of  political  ethics. 

To  Beverly's  scornful  retort  that,  at  any  rate,  he 
had  never  lowered  his  colors,  the  Senator  had  replied 
with  certain  indefinite  insinuations  about  juggling  with 
figures,  distorting  statistics,  and  misrepresenting  facts, 
in  a  feverish  activity  to  manufacture  joint-statehood 
sentiment  in  the  Territories  for  the  greater  deception 
and  further  confusion  of  the  unconvinced;  whereupon 
Beverly,  with  vigorous  thumps  of  his  desk,  had  insisted 
upon  being  heard,  while  he  read  sundry  well-authenti- 
cated telegrams  and  signed  statements,  which  he  se- 


ME  DAYSMAN  371 

lected  from  a  huge  mass  of  documentary  evidence,  in 
verification  of  his  statements  as  to  the  Territorial  sen- 
timent on  jointure. 

His  boyish  manifestation  of  excitement  had  amused 
her  immensely,  at  the  time,  but  it  was  not  long  before 
she  was  to  have  occasion  to  reflect  upon  the  causes 
that  had  produced  the  outbreak. 

It  was  shortly  after  this  that  her  father's  political 
honesty  was  assailed  on  the  floor.  There  was  no  di- 
rect attack.  Senator  Minturn's  name  was  not  even 
mentioned  in  connection  with  certain  general  refer- 
eces  to  the  "past  indescretions "  and  "present  meth- 
ods" of  well-known  legislators  whose  "unimpeached 
integrity  has,  for  so  long,  been  the  vaunted  glory  of  the 
allies  in  this  movement." 

Reading  through  the  speech,  one  uninformed  about 
Senator  Minturn's  connection  with  the  anti- joint  state- 
hood issue  would  have  seen  nothing  more  than  a  vague 
criticism  of  persons  unknown.  Indeed,  so  thoroughly 
veiled  were  the  allusions,  so  subtly  concealed  was  each 
damning  inuendo,  that  Miss  Minturn,  who  happened 
to  be  alone  with  Treverin  in  the  member's  gallery  at 
the  time,  was  not,  at  first,  aware  that  anything  unusual 
was  on  foot.  Not  until  she  saw  her  father  flush  and 
then  go  suddenly  pale,  not  until  she  noticed  that  Trev- 
erin's  attitude  had  stiffened,  that  he  was  leaning  for- 
ward slightly  and  listening  intently,  did  she  compre- 
hend that  something  out  of  the  ordinary  was  happen- 
ing. 

Even  then  she  thought  it  must  be  only  one  of  those 
bitter  little  forensic  quarrels  in  which  nearly  every 


372  THE   DAYSMAN 

Senator  in  the  Chamber  has  at  some  time  been  engaged. 
She  knew,  moreover,  that  her  father  had  frequently 
called  down  upon  himself  the  unsparing  lash  of  satire 
and  the  sharpened  weapons  of  wit  because  of  his  many 
appeals  to  the  traditions  of  the  past  as  opposed  to  the 
methods  of  the  present,  evinced  through  that  vast  sys- 
tem of  "truck  and  barter"  in  patronage  which  has 
grown  up  in  recent  years  and  through  which  in  the 
"spirit  of  the  Cairo  Bazaar"  political  interests  are 
sometimes  served  at  the  cost  of  the  public  by  partisan 
leaders  who  seize  and  keep  control  of  party  machinery. 
So  she  imagined  at  first  that  the  speaker  on  the  floor 
was  only  striving  desperately  to  put  her  father  in  an 
unpleasant  position;  indulging  in  personal  criticism 
in  order  to  square,  perhaps,  a  grudge  of  long  stand- 
ing. 

Gradually,  however,  she  began  to  realize  that  there 
was  something  here  of  a  more  serious  nature ;  a  passing 
reference  had  been  made  to  previous  fraudulent  mis- 
representation of  a  certain  property  in  Arizona  which 
had  borne  the  name  of  that  bird  whose  sentimental  and 
symbolical  significance  for  all  Americans  was  well 
known.  It  was  suggested  that  money  had  been  "ex- 
torted" from  investors  under  false  pretenses,  and  final- 
ly the  speaker  had  ended  his  excoriation  with  the  ques- 
tion: 

"In  conjunction  with  such  a  record  is  it  possible  to 
doubt  the  present  demoralizing  influences  of  those 
great  railroad  and  mining  corporations  which  have 
combined  their  interests  with  those  of  the  Common- 
wealth in  order  that  they  may  be  permitted  to  enjoy 


THE   DAYSMAN  373 

continued  immunity  from  adequate  taxation  under 
Territorial  law?" 

It  was  all  strictly  parliamentary  and  yet  not  one 
of  his  hearers  had  the  slightest  doubt  about  the  point. 
Here  was  more  than  an  imputation  of  ulterior  motives ; 
more  than  an  insinuation  that  her  father  was  bound 
hand  and  foot  to  that  coterie  of  moneyed  interests 
which  was  said  to  dictate  legislation;  it  amounted  to  a 
direct  charge  that  Senator  Minturn  had,  with  others, 
been  engaged  in  questionable  transactions  during  the 
past;  that,  therefore,  of  necessity,  he  must  be  a  tool 
of  those  great  mining  tax-dodgers  who  were  said  to  be 
backing  the  supposititious  lobby  at  Washington. 

It  was  one  of  the  most  scurrilous  public  attacks  which 
could  have  been  made  upon  a  man's  character,  and  its 
meaning  was  as  obvious  as  its  motive,  which  was  evi- 
dently the  making  of  that  political  capital  that  is  so 
cheaply  bought  by  appealing  to  the  public  sentiment 
for  righteousness.  Bitterly,  passionately,  Carroll 
Minturn  longed  for  vengeance  upon  a  vociferous  in- 
tegrity whose  self -appreciation  could  so  deceive  and  de- 
lude the  multitude.  She  wondered  how  long  this  man 
had  been  laying  the  tracks  into  which  the  last  spike 
had,  today,  been  driven.  Through  love  of  power,  per- 
sonal, or  party,  he  had  in  a  blind  determination  to 
carry  his  point,  been  willing  to  reach  out  both  hands 
for  the  crushing  of  such  forces,  individual  and  cor- 
porate, as  opposed  themselves  to  his  unbridled  will, 
caring  little  if  a  good  name  were  lost  in  the  wreck- 
age. "Would  this  have  been  considered  worthy  treat- 


374  THE    DAYSMAN 

merit  of  a  business  opponent,  or  was  it  only  the  com- 
mendable animus  of  politics?" 

She  looked  across  the  Chamber  to  where  her  father 
sat  with  folded  arms  and  flashing  eye,  facing  the  man 
who  had  just  attacked  that  honor  which  she  knew  he 
considered  his  dearest  possession  in  life. 

Criticism  rarely  annoyed  him;  it  seemed  rather  to 
increase  the  coolness  with  which  he  looked  down  from 
his  calm  height  upon  the  person  who  uttered  it.  Per- 
sonal attack,  he  had  always  refused  to  answer.  But 
surely  now,  he  could  not  keep  silence!  It  was  impos- 
sible to  permit  vituperation  which  so  villified  his  repu- 
tation to  go  undenied! 

His  proud  head  was  erect,  his  bearing  superb,  but 
not  a  word  escaped  the  tightly  closed  lips  with  which 
he  shut  back  the  sentences  that  might  have  so  easily 
escaped;  and  then,  in  the  same  moment  that  brought 
her  a  realization  of  the  futility  of  a  reply,  she  heard 
Treverin's  low  voice  at  her  ear. 

"  'What  no  gentleman  would  say,  no  gentleman  need 
answer,'  "  he  quoted  softly. 

There  was  a  blinding  blur  of  confused  figures  where 
the  Senate  Chamber  should  have  been  and  then,  all 
at  once,  she  flashed  back  at  him  through  sudden  un- 
shed tears. 

"But  his  vindication!"  she  breathed  passionately. 
"More  than  anything  in  life,  I  want  his  vindication." 

"I  hope  to  be  able  to  find  it,"  he  replied  simply, 
and  there  was  a  quiet  confidence  in  his  voice  that  was 
reassuring. 


THE    DAYSMAN  375 

A  second  more,  and  Beverly,  with  a  sincere  desire 
to  compose  the  difficulty,  was  on  his  feet,  trying  in  an 
indignant  voice  to  stay  the  effect  of  the  speech  and  at 
the  same  time  to  pay  off  an  old  score  against  the  man 
who  had  uttered  it. 

"I  challenge  this  loose  statement  of  the  Senator  and 
call  for  his  proofs,"  he  began  Confidently,  and  the  girl 
felt  that  she  had  never  been  so  near  to  loving  him. 

"In  the  shadow  of  the  main  issues,"  he  went  on 
quickly,  ' '  the  accusations  made  by  the  Senator  would  be 
trivial  if  they  were  true.  'As  long  as  Arizona  remains 
a  Territory,  and  there  is  no  prospect  of  immediate  ad- 
mission to  statehood,  if  the  proposed  law  for  jointure 
shall  fail  of  enactment  at  this  time,  as  long  as  Arizona 
remains  a  Territory  the  Congress  of  the  United  States 
has  power  at  all  times  and  at  any  time  to  regulate  tax- 
ation in  the  Territory,  and  if  the  system  is  wrong, 
Congress  can  change  it.  It  might  also  be  remembered 
that  if  there  were  corruption,  it  would  hardly  be  more 
troublesome  to  control  a  state  legislature  than  one 
within  a  Territory  or  more  expensive  to  'influence'  a 
'venal  voter.'  'Nor  can  it  be  believed  that  it  would 
be  more  difficult  to  control  the  joint  legislature,  if  it 
materialize,  unless  it  be  held  that  the  Arizonians  are 
politically  more  corrupt  than  the  New  Mexicans,  and 
it  is  to  be  doubted  if  even  a  New  Mexican  would  make 
such  a  claim.'  What  would  there  be  about  a  state  gov- 
ernment that  would  make  its  assessors  more  honest? 
There  is  better  opportunity,  no  doubt,  'for  an  even 
assessment  under  a  governor  appointed  by  the  Presi- 
dent than  under  one  seated,  perhaps,  by  the  power  of 


376  THE.  DAYSMAN 

corporations.  Already  the  Governor  of  Arizona  has 
succeeded  in  bringing  the  most  notable  offenders  to 
justice  and  the  Territorial  Supreme  Court  has  sus- 
tained his  course.'  " 

It  was  a  clever  line  of  defense  and  with  the  utter- 
ance of  each  salient  sentence,  the  girl's  heart  warmed 
to  Clarence  Beverly  as  it  had  not  done  for  months. 
When,  at  length,  he  finished  with  a  repetition  of  the 
challenge  and  glanced  up  at  the  gallery  as  he  sat  down, 
there  was  a  look  for  him  in  the  girl's  eyes  that  made 
Treverin,  who  imagined  something  of  its  significance, 
wince. 

But  the  question  was  evidently  not  settled  in  the 

mind  of  the  Senator  from  ,  who  turned  squarely 

about  when  it  came  his  turn  to  speak  and  expressed 
surprise  and  chagrin  that  a  Senator  who  was  said 
to  have  been  himself  caught  heavily  in  the  wildcat  min- 
ing scheme,  just  referred  to,  should  be  so  ready  to 
champion  the  cause  of  one  of  the  perpetrators  of  the 
fraud. 

"It  is  said,"  he  went  on  blandly,  "that  the  Senator 
himself  pulled  out  after  an  early  awakening  and  has 
never  again  been  drawn  so  deeply  into  the  whirl;  but 
it  is  nevertheless  difficult  to  understand  how" — with 
ironic  emphasis  on  the  word — "a  man  who  is  believed 
to  have  bundle  after  bundle  of  stocks  representing  at 
their  face  value  thousands  of  dollars  but  really  worth 
little  more  than  the  paper  on  which  they  are  printed, 
can  be  so  free  from  prejudice." 

To  which  Beverly  had  curtly  responded  with  the 
retort  that  since  the  Senator  from had  so  evident- 


THE   DAYSMAN  377 

ly  forgotten  his  manners,  he  should  be  obliged  to  re- 
mind the  Senator  that  his  (Beverly's)  private  mis- 
fortunes were  really  none  of  his  business. 

Whereupon  the  Senator  from  had  responded 

with  a  well-calculated  shrewdness,  under  which  Bever- 
ly appeared  to  flinch: 

"The  Senator  will  do  well  to  remember  that  in  some 
of  his  remarks  he  saw  fit  to  question  my  veracity.  I 
am  not  in  the  habit  of  allowing  such  a  charge  to  go  un- 
questioned but,"  with  a  sardonic  smile,  "under  the 
circumstances,  it  is  fitting  to  lay  aside  a  personal  griev- 
ance until  the  main  point  at  issue  between  the  Senator 
and  myself  shall  have  been  settled. 

' '  The  Senator  has  challenged  me  to  corroborate  these 
statements.  It  is  my  firm  belief  that  the  Senator's 
political  business  with  a  certain  man  named  Fowler 
will  enable  him  to  verify  without  my  aid  the  charges 
which  he  has  denied  and,  therefore,"  he  paused  for  a 
moment  in  order  that  his  last  words  might  have  time 
to  take  effect  and  then  facing  Beverly  squarely,  he 
added,  with  sinister  meaning,  "I  throw  upon  the  Sen- 
ator himself  the  burden  of  proof  for  the  defendant." 

After  which  Beverly  was  silent. 


378  THE    DAYSMAN 


CHAPTER   X. 

"The  mind  has  a  thousand  eyes:  the  heart,  but  one." 
"It  is  necessary  to  have  adored  a  woman  of  genius/    said 
Tallyrand,   in   order  to   comprehend   the   luxury   of   loving  a 
fool." 

THAT  night  Treverin  sent  in  cipher  the  following 
telegram  to  Richard  Wood: 

"Senator  Minturn  accused  on  the  floor  of  complicity 
with  Fowler  in  the  Bald  Eagle  swindle.  Send  proofs 
of  his  innocence  if  you  can  obtain  them." 

Wood's  (cipher)  reply,  received  within  twenty- 
four  hours  seemed  satisfactory,  and  read: 

"Have  gotten  into  communication  with  the  man, 
Dumford.  He  leaves  for  Washington  tonight.  His 
testimony  with  corroboration  of  letters  gust  mailed  con- 
tain all  the  proof  you  need." 

The  substance  of  the  good  news  he  condensed  in  a 
little  note  to  Carroll  Minturn,  who  was  said  to  be  seri- 
ously ill,  and  the  flowers  which  he  had  selected  to  be 
sent  up  at  the  same  time  were  eloquent  of  hope. 

After  that  he  settled  down  to  prosaic  days  of  quiet 
waiting  until  Dumford  and  the  letters  should  have 
reached  Washington,  while  Carroll,  glad  of  an  excuse 
for  refusing  herself  to  all  visitors,  especially  Beverly, 
also  waited. 

In  the  meantime,  on  the  twenty-second  day  of  March, 
a  special  rule  disagreeing  with  the  Senate  amendments 


THE    DAYSMAN  379 

to  the  Hamilton  bill  was  got  through  the  House  and 
a  conference  committee  authorized.  When  formal  word 
of  the  phantom  triumph  reached  the  Senate  there  was 
a  lively  wrangle  over  the  appointment  of  conferees, 
and  then  a  series  of  meetings  which  resulted  in  the 
public  statement  on  the  twenty-eighth  that  the  House 
conferees  were  willing  to  accept  an  amendment  pro- 
viding for  a  separate  vote  in  Arizona  and  New  Mexico, 
at  the  next  general  election,  on  the  question  whether 
the  two  Territories  should  come  into  the  Union  as  one 
Slate.  The  majority  in  the  Senate,  however,  still  held 
out  for  the  bill  as  originally  amended,  admitting  Okla- 
homa uncomplicated  by  the  Arizona-New  Mexico  prop- 
osition, refusing  to  adopt  the  conference  report,  which 
was,  at  best,  a  compromise  representing  concessions  by 
the  various  contending  forces. 

Beverly  and  his  faction,  while  favorable  to  the  ref- 
erendum plan,  insisted,  for  some  inexplicable  reason, 
that  a  majority  of  all  votes  cast  should  decide  the 
question,  while  their  opponents  declared  such  a  propo- 
sition obviously  unfair,  on  the  ground  that  the  antici- 
pated New  Mexican  majority  in  favor  of  joint-state- 
hood would  in  all  probability  overwhelm  almost  any 
adverse  majority  in  her  sister  Territory,  whose  people 
were  naturally  more  bitterly  opposed  to  the  union  than 
the  citizens  of  New  Mexico  because  the  latter  would 
derive  from  their  numerical  advantage  the  compensa- 
tion of  dominating  the  situation,  at  least. 

And  so  the  war  went  merrily  on,  while  men  who  be- 
longed to  that  group  of  which  Treverin  was  said  to  be 
the  most  illustrious  light  sat  back  and  looked  on  at 


380  THE   DAYSMAN 

the  fray,  never  for  a  moment  admitting  the  thought  of 
ultimate  defeat. 

At  length  Richard  Wood's  letter  arrived,  containing 
among  other  salient  sentences  the  following: 

"Fowler,  who  is  in  Washington,  is  said  to  have  been 
Beverly's  chief  lieutenant  in  New  Mexico,  where  he 
still  aspires  to  be  leader  of  the  joint-statehood  forces, 
although  discredited  by  the  party  and  people  alike. 

"Dumford  seems  confident  of  being  able  to  force  him 
to  talk,  and  I  think  when  you  have  heard  his  story 
you'll  be  inclined  to  agree  that  the  cards  are  all  in  our 
hands. 

"Beverly,  by  the  way,  seems  still  to  be  unduly  ac- 
tive in  championship  of  the  jointure  idea,  and  I  rather 
fear,  if  the  referundum  plan  is  adopted,  that  Fowler's 
fulminating  political  enthusiasm  will  be  allowed  to 
expend  itself  in  influencing  voters  in  both  Territories. 
It's  rather  surprising  that  Beverly  should  have  gotten 
himself  mixed  up  with  a  crowd  like  that.  I've  always 
been  inclined  to  believe,  with  the  rest  of  the  world, 
that  he  was  above  the  sins  of  the  party." 

The  day  after  the  letters  came,  Dummy  full  of  gos- 
sip about  statehood  that  Treverin  found  extremely 
diverting,  and  primed  with  facts  relative  to  "Cap'n 
Minturn's"  integrity  that  were  more  than  satisfying. 

"Yes,"  he  declared  sententiously,  "Fowler  he's  ben 
back  of  most  of  this  here  prophesyin'  about  annexa- 
tion's bein'  a  sure  thing.  Seems  he's  bought  several 
hundred  people  to  swear  that  its  only  the  'politicians' 
in  Arizona  as  is  opposin'  the  jointure  scheme. 

"Fact  is,  sir,  he's  got  his  eye  on  bein'  Senator  some 


THE   DAYSMAN  381 

day,  an'  gettin'  sent  up  by  them  durned  Mexican  greas- 
ers to  the  Senate,  fer  he  likes  bein'  a  respectable  robber, 
it  seems.  He  ain't  at  all  modest,  ain't  Fowler — my  eye, 
no.  Why,  last  election  he  even  bolted  the  Republican 
convention  when  it  didn't  nominate  him  fer  delegate, 
and  ran  independent,  though  he  couldn't  get  mor'n  a 
few  thousan'  votes,  and  claimed  afterward  as  how  he 
was  'jobbed'  at  the  polls. 

"I  guess,"  and  Dummy  winked  knowingly,  "it  was 
one  o'  the  honestest  jobs  as  was  ever  done  at  the  polls, 
Mr.  Treverin." 

It  was  about  this  time  that  Treverin  wrote  to  Bev- 
erly stating  frankly  that  he  wished  to  make  an  appoint- 
ment for  a  conference  relative  to  the  establishment  of 
Senator  Minturn's  innocence  of  the  base  charges  re- 
cently made  upon  the  floor. 

Beverly  replied  at  once  that  he  would  be  glad  to 
accommodate  Mr.  Treverin  at  any  time,  and  especially 
in  regard  to  this  matter  in  which  he  himself  was  deep- 
ly interested. 

When,  a  few  evenings  later,  he  was  shown  into  Trev- 
erin's  sitting-room,  he  seemed  surprised,  annoyed  and 
somewhat  startled  to  find  Fowler  already  there,  and 
both  men  were  visibly  disconcerted  when,  a  second  af- 
ter Beverly's  entrance,  Dummy  came  into  the  room, 
and  Treverin,  with  a  quiet  "good-evening,"  invited  the 
one-time  bartender  of  the  Diana  saloon  at  Sunshine  to 
be  seated. 

"We  are  all,  I  take  it,"  began  Treverin,  looking 
around  upon  the  curiously  assorted  company,  "we  are 
all  more  or  less  interested  in  the  establishment  of  the 


362  THE   DAYSMAN 

innocence  of  a  man  to  whom  honor,"  he  paused  a  mo- 
ment and  then  went  on  with  a  fine  tact  which  two  of 
his  hearers,  at  least  appreciated,  ''to  whom  honor 
means  much  more  than  it  can,  perhaps,  to  many  men 
of  this  age." 

Beverly  nodded,  and  the  two  others  murmured  as- 
sent. 

"With  the  past  history  of  the  Gald  Eagle  Mining 
Company,"  continued  Treverin  easily,  "it  is  not  our 
province  to  deal. ' '  Fowler  breathed  more  freely.  ' '  Ex- 
cept in  so  far  as  a  review  of  that  history  may  enable 
us  to  determine  how  far  it  will  be  possible  to  disasso- 
ciate the  name  of  Senator  Minturn  from  any  responsi- 
bility in  that  last."  He  waited  for  a  brief  instant  and 
then  ended  happily,  "from  any  responsibility  in  that 
last  unfortunate  effort  to  promote  public  interest  in  the 
property.  For  we  are  all  rather  fully  aware,  I  be- 
lieve, that  nothing  less  than  absolute  disproof  of  these 
charges  will  secure  in  the  public  mind  this  gentleman's 
vindication. ' ' 

There  was  an  impersonal  sincerity  in  the  frank  eyes 
and  a  judicial  calmness  in  the  even  voice  that  robbed 
the  words  of  their  sting. 

"I  myself  am  fortunately  in  a  position  to  furnish 
some  personal  testimony  in  behalf  of  Senator  Min- 
turn." 

At  these  words,  that  organ  which  was  Dummy's 
excuse  for  a  heart  glowed  with  the  primitive  instinct 
for  hero-worship ;  and  through  that  capacity  for 
strange  and  sudden  loyalties  which  lay  at  the  root  of 


THE   DAYSMAN  383 

his  warped  nature  he  was  stirred  with  a  sudden  deter- 
mination that  the  defense  should  not  be  lost. 

"On  the  -  -  day  of  June,  1893,"  continued  Trev- 
erin  gravely,  "from  the  window  of  a  sleeping-car,  there 
was  accidentally  overheard  by  me  a  conversation  which 

took  place  on  the  platform  at  Junction,  between 

Doctor  Fowler,  who  was  already  known  to  me  by  sight, 
and  this  man,"  he  nodded  slightly  in  the  direction  of 
the  whilom  Apache  Sam,  "whom  the  Doctor  addressed 
as  'Dummy.'  " 

Fowler  flushed  uneasily;  Dummy  smiled  shrewdly; 
Beverly  seemed  mystified,  and  Treverin,  who  had,  ap- 
parently, noticed  nothing,  went  on: 

"An  affidavit  of  the  substance  of  that  conversation, 
sworn  to  by  me,  would,  I  think,  furnish  conclusive 
proof  that  Senator — or,  rather,  Captain  Minturn,  as 
he  was  generally  known  at  that  time — was  not  in 
Sunshine,  when  a  large  party  of  Eastern  investors,  that 
had  been  taken  out  by  Doctor  Fowler,  was  shown  over 
the  property. 

"You  remember,  Senator  Beverly,  do  you  not?"  and 
Treverin  addressed  himself  directly  to  that  gentleman, 
"our  meeting  about  that  time,  on  a  Southern  Pacific 
train  while  en  route  for  Tucson?" 

"Perfectly,  Mr.  Treverin,"  responded  Beverly. 

"You  were  then,  I  think  you  told  me,  becoming  in- 
terested yourself  in  this  property,"  Treverin 's  eye- 
brows questioned. 

"Unfortunately,    yes,"    rejoined   Beverly,    shortly. 

"He's  hatin'  like  the  devil  fer  any  one  to  be  thinkin' 


384  THE   DAYSMAN 

he  was  ever  fool  enough  to  get  pinched,"  was  the  com- 
ment of  Dummy. 

"I  have  here  a  prospectus  of  the  Bald  Eagle  Com- 
pany," proceeded  Treverin,  producing  the  document, 
"from  which  it  would  appear  that  Captain  Minturn 
was  never  directly  quoted." 

He  turned  over  the  pages  absently  for  a  moment  as 
though  considering  what  point  it  would  be  best  to  take 
up  next,  and  then,  raising  his  eyes  and  looking  square- 
ly across  at  Beverly,  he  asked  abruptly: 

"Would  you  be  willing  to  swear,  Senator  Beverly, 
that,  although  you  were  one  of  the  unfortunate  invest- 
ors who  lost  money  through  this  property,  Senator 
Minturn  was  in  no  way  instrumental  in  inducing  you 
and  others  whom  you  could  name,  to  purchase  stock?" 

Beverly  looked  uncomfortable  and  glanced  over  at 
Fowler,  whose  expression  was  non-committal. 

"There  might  be  some  diffculty  about  swearing  to 
such  a  statement,  I  fear."  Beverly  was  evidently  tem- 
porizing, and  Treverin  wondered  if  it  could  be  noth- 
ing more  than  the  Senator's  aversion  to  acknowledging 
that  he  had  been  "fleeced,"  which  made  him  so  re- 
luctant. 

"You  see,"  continued  Beverly  as  though  he  were 
feeling  vainly  for  some  plausible  excuse,  "as  a  tech- 
nical matter  of  fact,  Mr.  Treverin,  the  name  of  Senator 
Minturn  was  mentioned  in  the  transaction  in  so  far 
as  I  was  given  to  understand  that  his  opinion  of  the 
property  carried  weight." 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  Treverin  in  surprise  and  some 
doubt.  "Then  your  denial  of  the  charges  made  in  the 


THE   DAYSMAN  385 

Senate,  the  other  day,  was  simply  an  impulsive  and 
generous  desire  to  defend  a  friend  whom  you,  your- 
self, had  reason  to  fear  guitlty?"  he  asked  keenly. 

"Not  exactly,"  returned  Beverly,  feeling  somehow 
as  though  he  were  being  cornered  in  spite  of  himself. 
"However,  Mr.  Treverin,"  he  added  hastily,  "I  might 
swear  that  Senator  Minturn  is  not  guilty,  without  ap- 
pending my  reasons." 

"And  do  you  think  such  a  statement  would  carry 
weight?"  asked  Treverin,  with  some  amusement.  "A 
sworn  statement  of  a  conclusion  without  giving  the 
facts  upon  which  one's  knowledge  is  based  means  lit- 
tle to  the  average  mind,  no  matter  who  makes  it." 

"And  yet,  I  hardly  see  my  way  clear  toward  doing 
more,"  replied  Beverly.  He  was  irritated  and  angry 
at  having  been  forced  to  assume  what  he  considered  a 
false  position. 

"You  might  think  it  over,"  suggested  Treverin  sen- 
tentiously. 

"And  now,  Doctor,"  he  continued,  turning  sud- 
denly upon  the  astute  Fowler,  "how  about  you?  Will 
you  swear  that  Senator  Minturn  had  no  knowledge  or 
part  in  any  misrepresentations  of  this  property?" 

Fowler  considered  a  moment,  evidently  weighing  the 
question  as  to  whether  he  might  gain  less  by  acquie- 
scence or  hope  for  more  through  denial,  and  then,  at 
length,  with  a  brilliant  perspicacity  that  surprised  even 
himself,  he  replied: 

"I  think,  Mr.  Treverin,  that  I  shall  adopt  the  plan 
which  Senator  Beverly  decides  to  follow." 


386  THE   DAYSMAN 

"A  course  that  rather  increases  the  Senator's  re- 
sponsibility," commented  Treverin  smiling. 

"And  Dumford,"  he  asked  pleasantly,  turning  at 
last  to  that  individual  in  whose  small  bright  eyes  a 
close  observer  might  have  detected  a  strange  glitter  of 
triumph,  "what  light,  I  wonder,  can  you  throw  upon 
the  situation?" 

"I've  already  promised  to  give  testimony,  Mr.  Trev- 
erin, 'bout  hearin'  several  talks  between  the  Cap'n  an' 
this  here — Fowler."  There  was  a  supreme  contempt  in 
his  utterance  of  the  name — a  contempt  which  somehow 
carried  the  significance  of  an  apology — a  repudiation, 
as  it  were,  of  all  previous  fawning  and  flattery  that 
may  have  crept  into  his  former  usage  of  that  titular 
prefix,  "Doctor." 

"Them  talks  showed  plain  enough  how  innocent  the 
Cap'n  was  of  all  the  swindlin'  that  was  goin'  on.  I've 
likewise  give  you  a  tip  as  to  my  own  dealin's  with 
Fowler,  an'  of  how  them  dealin's  forced  him,  off  an' 
on,  to  show  up  some  of  the  strongest  cards  in  his  hand, 
also  I  could  swear  that  Cap'n  Minturn  wa'nt  in  Sun- 
shine when  Fowler's  big  stage-play  was  goin'  on. 

"But  I  ain't,  yet,  let  out — even  to  you,  Mr.  Treverin 
— that  I  know  a  little  somethin'  that  might  be  inter- 
estin'  with  regard  to  this  here  gent."  Dummy  paused 
impressively,  while  all  eyes  followed  the  direction  of 
his  nod,  which  meant,  distinctly,  Beverly. 

The  latter 's  head  went  up  arrogantly,  but  an  ill  con- 
cealed anxiety  crept  into  his  eyes  as  the  man  went  on 
with  his  story. 

"The  report,  somehow,  got  roun'  up  in  Sunshine,1' 


THE   DAYSMAN  387 

and  Dummy's  shrewd  leer  gave  a  suggestive  hint  as  to 
the  origin  of  that  report  to  which  he  referred,  "the  re- 
port got  'roun'  somehow,  even  while  the  stage-play  was 
goin'  on,  that  everything  wasn't  jest  right."  Fowler 
glowered  in  savage  reminiscence. 

"An'  then,  one  night,  this  here  gent  an'  that  foxy 
little  spitfire,  what  I  seen  to-day,  settin'  up  so  pert 
like,  bossin'  the  House  of  Representatives,  them  two 
together  hunts  out  Fowler  and  demands  a  explanation, 
tbreatenin'  to  look  up  this  here  honest  Cap'n  what  they 
was  always  hearin'  about  an'  expose  the  whole  dura 
business. 

' '  Fowler  was  so  skeered  that  he  lost  his  head  f er  the 
first  time  in  his  life,  an'  instead  of  callin'  the  bluff,  as 
usual,  he  jist  throws  up  all  the  cards  an'  begins  con- 
fessin'  how  the  Captain  ain't  in  this  business  a-tall  an' 
can't  tell  them  nothin',  but  as  how  he,  Fowler,  was 
willin'  to  pay  back  what  them  two  had  put  into  the 
proputy  if  they'll  jest  promise  to  keep  things  mum." 

"Which  explains,"  finished  Dummy,  and  with  a  tri- 
umphant flourish  of  the  solitary  but  ubiquitous  finger 
he  emphasized  his  own  acuteness,  "which  explains  why 
this  here  honorable  gent  ain't  goin'  to  swear  to  losin' 
money  what  he's  already  got  back." 

There  was  silence  in  the  room  for  a  moment,  the  si- 
lence of  consternation,  as  when  a  bomb  has  been  sud- 
denly exploded.  Fowler  was  nonchalant  as  usual;  one 
more  discovery  made  very  little  difference  to  him. 
Treverin  looked  amazed.  But  it  was  upon  Beverly,  at 
length,  that  all  eyes  were  turned;  upon  Beverly,  the 
renowned  champion  of  the  square  deal,  who,  in  the 


388  THE   DAYSMAN 

guise  of  a  comprehensive  benevolence,  had  already  be- 
gun that  courageous  assault  upon  such  lions  as  his 
quixotic  zeal  inspired  him  to  uncage;  upon  Beverly, 
who  had  been  sweeping  along  with  the  tide  of  public 
sentiment,  buoyed  up  by  the  clamor  of  the  multitude 
only  to  be  exposed  at  last  as  a  Samson  shorn  of  his 
strength. 

For  a  man  of  his  caliber,  the  doom  of  grinding  in  a 
prison  house  of  that  moral  Philistinism  which  his  soul 
abhorred,  even  more  perhaps  than  his  spirit  was  capa- 
ble of  despising  the  weakness  which  had  been  its  own 
undoing,  seemed  so  terrible  that  even  Treverin  was,  for 
a  moment,  sorry. 

Beverly,  himself,  however,  rallying  quickly  that  un- 
crushed  egotism  which  could  almost  rise  to  the  heights 
of  infallibility,  looked  about  him  defiantly  as  he  said: 

"After  thinking  the  matter  over,  Mr.  Treverin,  I  have 
concluded  to  swear  to  the  statement  which  you  have 
suggested,  and,  by  following  out  these  lines  of  defense, 
I  believe  it  will  be  possible  for  me  to  vindicate  Senator 
Minturn,  publicly,  in  the  Senate.  As  to  this  base  ca- 
lumny," continued  Beverly,  with  an  arrogant  assump- 
tion of  dignity,  as  he  glared  over  Dummy's  head,  "it 
would  be  quite  beneath  me  to  reply  to  such  a  false- 
hood." 

"An'  ef  this  here  crawlin'  helps  the  gent  to  a  doin' 
of  the  right  thing,  I  guess  I  kin  stand  it,"  was  the 
laconic  answer  with  which  Dummy  acepted  his  nomina- 
tion to  the  "Ananias  Club." 

"Allow  me  to  congratulate  you  upon  the  wisdom  of 


THE   DAYSMAN  389 

your  decision,  Senator  Beverly,"  was  Treverin's  enig- 
matical reply. 

It  was  during  the  afternoon  of  the  following  day  that 
Beverly  uttered  his  famous  defense,  and  for  more  than 
an  hour  thereafter  the  Democratic  cloakroom  was 
crowded  with  Senators,  and  a  general  and  very  cordial 
shaking  of  hands  took  place  while  many  warm  tributes 
were  paid  to  the  character  of  Senator  Minturn. 

It  was  one  of  those  informal  political  receptions 
whose  chief  charm  is  the  spontaneity  which  inspires 
movement,  and  it  was  significant  of  the  personality  of 
the  man  that  he  was  forced  to  strike  hands  with  almost 
every  member  of  the  entire  body,  irrespective  of  politi- 
cal faith. 

After  it  was  all  over,  the  Senator,  hurrying  out 
through  the  corridor,  ran  across  an  odd-looking  figure 
whose  extended  hand  seemed,  somehow,  strangely  fa- 
miliar. 

"I  guess,  Cap'n,"  exclaimed  an  almost  forgotten 
voice,  "that  a  good  American  kin  shake  with  one  of 
the  lawmakers  of  his  country,  can't  he?" 

"By  all  means,  Dummy,"  returned  the  Senator  cor- 
dially, as  he  caught  with  quick  recollection  the  memory 
of  Sunshine  days.  "I  was  not  aware  that  you  were 
in  Washington." 

"Ain't  been  here  only  since  the  twenty-ninth,"  re- 
turned the  other  laconically.  "An'  I'm  mighty  dura 
proud,  Cap'n  Minturn,  to  be  here  now  a-helpin'  in  the 
inspirin'  of  such  speeches  ez  I  hear  made  about  you 
from  the  gallery  this  arternoon.  My  eye!  But  they 


390  THE    DAYSMAN 

was  a  crowd,  wan't  they,  an  'how  they  did  ancore  the 
mentionin'  of  your  name.  An'  all  the  while  I  wuz 
sayin'  ter  myself,  'Dummy,  ole  boy,  ain't  ye  proud  of 
helpin'  that  honorable  gent,  so  graceful  like,  to  the 
makin'  of  this  here  speech?'  " 

"What,  exactly,  do  you  mean?"  demanded  Senator 
Minturn,  looking  puzzled,  and  Dummy,  without  fur- 
ther urging,  gave  a  minute  description  of  the  scene 
which  had  been  enacted  but  the  evening  before  at 
Treverin's  hotel. 

"Dear  Clarence,"  wrote  Carroll  Minturn,  the  follow- 
ing morning:  "Have  just  finished  reading  reports  of 
yesterday's  'doings'  in  the  Senate.  What  a  splendid 
defense  (of  my  father)  your's  was!  If  you  have  no 
other  engagement  you  might  drop  in  this  afternoon  for 
a  cup  of  tea  and  I  may,  perhaps,  be  able  to  tell  you 
how  much  I  liked  it. 

"Au  revoir,  then  mon  Chevalier  Senatorial — until 
five. 

"CARROLL." 

"My  father  telephoned  that  he  had  an  important 
engagement  down  town  for  last  night  so  I  have  not 
seen  him  since  yesterday  morning,  and  consequently 
have  had  little  more  than  newspaper  accounts." 

She  did  not  mention  that  a  short  message  from  Trev- 
erin  had  been  sent  up  five  minutes  after  the  session 
was  over,  congratulating  her  upon  the  triumphant 
conclusion  of  the  issue,  and  relating  briefly,  but  with 
those  happy  personal  touches  which  appeal  to  a  worn- 


THE   DAYSMAN  391 

an's  thought,  the  dramatic  substance  of  the  most  strik- 
ing incidents. 

Her  note  to  Beverly  had  been  gone  not  more  than 
half  an  hour,  when  Senator  Minturn  came  in  hastily. 
He  seemed  agitated,  and  his  daughter,  who  had  expect- 
ed to  see  him  radiant  over  his  vindication,  asked  anx- 
iously if  there  were  anything  seriously  wrong. 

He  did  not  respond  until  he  had  seated  himself  be- 
side her,  and  then,  taking  both  of  her  hands  in  his 
own,  he  began  gently  but  with  unmistakable  firmness: 

"Daughter,  I  have  made  an  accidental  discovery 
which  should,  I  think,  alter  your  entire  future.  Do  you 
want  me  to  tell  you  about  it?" 

She  was  very  pale,  but  there  was  no  tremor  in  the 
voice  that  answered  steadily: 

"Please,  dearest."  And  then,  with  a  sudden  child- 
like impulse  to  trust  herself  at  last  to  a  judgment  surer 
than  her  own,  she  added  quickly :  ' '  Isn  't  it  best  always 
to  know?" 

"I  am  quite  sure  that  it  is  best  for  you  to  know, 
daughter,"  he  rejoined  gravely.  And  then  he  told  her 
all  that  Dumford  had  related  to  him. 

"Are  you  quite  sure,"  she  asked  in  a  still  voice, 
when  he  had  finished,  "that  the  man's  statements  can 
be  relied  upon?" 

"I  went  at  once  to  Treverin,  and" there  was  no 

mistaking  the  conviction  in  Senator  Minturn 's  voice, 
"what  the  man  says  is  true." 

There  was  a  long  silence  between  them,  and  then: 

"I  shall  see  Clarence — Senator  Beverly — this  after- 
noon," she  said,  slowly. 


392  THE   DAYSMAN 

"Couldn't  I  spare  you  that,  daughter?"  he  asked 
tentatively,  and  then  added  with  tender  solicitude,  for 
he  knew  well  enough  what  her  answer  would  be,  "you 
are  so  very  far  from  well,  my  child." 

"Does  my  father,  who  equipped  me  for  the  crisis," 
and  there  was  a  smile  of  tender  irony  in  the  weary  eyes, 
"advise  me  not  to  meet  it  alone?" 

"It  will  be  very  hard  for  you,  I  fear,"  he  said 
gravely. 

"Not  so  hard  as  it  might  have  been,'  '  she  responded 
slowly,  "had  the  man  been  other  than  he  is;  had  the 
motives  that  lay  behind  these  acts  been  less  grotesque- 
ly, less  transparently  obvious." 

"Thank  heaven  that  you  are  not  hurt,"  he  exclaimed 
with  fervor,  as  he  softly  patted  her  hand. 

"I  think,  dearest,  that  it  must  be  because  I  have, 
without  realizing  it,  felt  this  coming  always."  She 
spoke  thoughtfully,  and  with  a  quiet  calmness  that 
amazed  even  herself. 

She  had  that  rarest  of  mental  gifts,  the  judicial  fac- 
ulty (which  is  seldom  found  in  woman),  and  before  the 
high  tribunal  of  her  ideals  she  must  have  acknowledged 
failure,  had  it  broken  her  heart  to  see  it. 

Fortunately  for  her,  however,  the  poignant  struggle 
between  loyalty  to  the  individual  and  fealty  to  the 
truth  could  be  won  in  that  first  moment  of  revelation 
which  had  given  her  the  key  by  which  to  translate  the 
supreme  and  controlling  motive  of  Clarence  Beverly's 
mind.  In  that  moment,  when  every  intuition  which 
she  had  previously  disregarded  was  thoroughly  awake 
and  instinct  with  life,  she  realized  that  while  traits 


THE   DAYSMAN  393 

are  not  always  sure  indices  of  character,  it  is  seldom 
that  they  fail  to  indicate  its  trend. 

"This  explains,"  she  continued  slowly,  as  her  father, 
with  the  tenderness  of  a  woman's  touch,  was  lightly 
stroking  her  hair,  "I  think,  why  I  never  came  to  care 
for  him  as  I  knew  one  ought  to  care.  Do  you  believe, 
dearest,  that  a  woman  could  ever  love  a  man  whom  she 
couldn't  quite  respect?" 

She  was  talking  freely,  at  last,  as  she  had  not  done 
for  months  with  her  father,  who  had  made  himself  the 
dearest  friend  of  her  motherless  childhood,  the  closest 
confidant  of  her  wilful  girlhood,  and  the  silent  guard- 
ian of  her  impulsive  womanhood. 

With  the  surer  poise  and  saner  balance  of  a  broaden- 
ing maturity  she  would  come  to  realize,  more  fully,  the 
supreme  folly  of  her  having  essayed  to  transcend  those 
vital  laws  of  nature  which  had  been  established  "in  the 
beginning,"  and  even  now,  in  the  shelter  of  her 
father's  arm,  from  the  secure  haven  of  a  tried  and  true 
affection,  she  could,  at  length,  acknowledge  the  supreme 
importance  of  an  emotion  which  she  knew  she  had 
never  known. 

Her  father  did  not  answer  her  last  question  directly, 
but  somewhere,  out  of  his  memory,  like  the  dim  wraith 
of  a  promise  there  floated  an  old  refrain: 

"Set  me  as  a  seal  upon  thine  heart,  as  a  seal  upon 
thine  arm:  for  love  is  strong  as  death;  ....  many 
waters  cannot  quench  love,  neither  can  the  floods  drown 
it:  if  a  man  would  give  all  the  substance  of  his  house 
for  love  it  would  utterly  be  contemned." 


394  THE    DAYSMAN 

"And  I  have  never  known  it,"  she  said  slowly. 
"Not  for   Clarence  Beverly,  thank  God!"  he  mur- 
mured under  his  breath. 


Promptly  at  five  o'clock  Senator  Beverly  was  shown 
into  her  study,  where  he  found  the  girl  awaiting  him 
quietly.  She  was  standing  at  a  window  in  the  far  end 
of  the  room,  and  he  thought  that  she  could  not  have 
heard  him  announced  since  she  came  not  a  step  to  meet 
him. 

She  was  aware  of  his  presence,  however,  as  soon  as 
he  entered  the  door,  and  the  eager  buoyancy  of  his 
manner,  the  possessive  optimism  in  his  voice  as  he  came 
toward  her  with  both  palms  extended  to  take  her  two 
hands  in  his  own,  told  her  that  he  was  prepared  to  ex- 
pect an  unusual  warmth  of  greeting. 

"Your  note  was  good,  dear,"  he  began,  in  a  voice 
that  vibrated  with  feeling,  "and  I  haven't  seen  you  for 
centuries. ' ' 

She  withdrew  her  hands  at  once,  however,  and  an- 
swered in  a  tone  that  seemed  to  him  strangely  cold. 
. ' '  My  note,  I  fear,  was  a  mistake. ' ' 

"A  mistake!"  he  exclaimed  quickly.  "What,  my 
dear  girl,  can  you  mean?" 

Her  only  reply  was  another  question. 

"I  shall  have  to  ask  you  to  tell  me  why  you  failed 
to  make  the  defense,  at  first?" 

"You  are  enigmatical,"  he  replied,  slightly  changing 
color.  "If,  however,  you  mean  me  to  infer  that,  for 
some  inexplicable  reason  you  are  dissatisfied  with  my 


THE    DAYSMAN  395 

defense  of  your  father,  I  can  only  say  that  I  consider 
your  attitude  surprising." 

"The  defense  could  not  have  been  stronger,"  she  re- 
turned calmly,  "but  why  need  it  have  been  delayed?" 

"And  why,"  he  demanded  with  some  heat,  "should 
I  have  to  answer  this  question?" 

"Because,"  she  replied  steadily,  "I  have  understood 
that  some  one  else  was  back  of  this  move ;  that  the  move 
itself  might  never  have  been  made  but  for  unusual  pres- 
sure. Because,  in  absolute  justice,  I  consider  it  strictly 
fair  to  accept  this  condemnation  only  from  yourself." 

"If  you  really  cared  for  me,"  he  exclaimed  bitterly, 
"you  could  not  question  my  motives.  Love  is  uncrit- 
ical; it  does  not  doubt." 

"Are  you  not  begging  the  question?"  she  demanded 
coldly.  "Is  not  the  point  at  issue  between  us  rather 
one  of  respect?" 

He  realized  the  truth  that  lay  back  of  her  words, 
and  he  knew,  moreover,  that,  in  the  last  analysis,  he 
could  make  no  appeal  to  her  emotions;  that  her  judg- 
ment of  him  would  be  essentially  a  verdict  of  the  mind. 

"I  suppose,"  he  began,  changing  his  tactics,  "I  sup- 
pose this  has  come  to  your  father  directly  through 
Treverin,  and 

"Stop,"  she  commanded  sternly,  and  her  head  went 
up  proudly:  "Mr.  Treverin  is  hardly  the  man  to  em- 
bark on  a  panegyric  of  his  own  deeds." 

Neither  of  them  was  surprised  at  the  warmth  of  her 
defense,  for  she  had  ever  been  loyal  to  a  friend,  but 
Beverly  felt  vaguely  that  here  was  an  unconscious  com- 
parison with  himself. 


396  THE   DAYSMAN 

"This  knowledge  came  to  my  father,"  she  went  on 
quickly,  "quite  by  accident  through  a  man  called  Dum- 
ford,  whom  he  once  employed  in  the  West." 

"I  suppose,  then,"  and  his  voice  was  anxious,  for  he 
realized,  at  last,  the  importance  of  the  issue,  "I  sup- 
pose that  you  have  heard  the  whole  story  of  the  other 
night." 

"Yes,"  she  answered  simply,  "I  have  heard.  But  T 
am  waiting  for  what  you  have  to  say  because — Oh, 
don't  you  see,  can't  you  understand,  that  unless  I  could 
believe  you  incapable  of  the  motives  which  seem  to 
have  inspired  these  acts,  it  would  be  necessary  to  put 
an  end,  at  once,  to  everything  between  us?" 

Had  she  been  a  woman  of  compromises  he  could  not 
have  loved  her  as  he  did,  and  it  was  significant  that  he 
had  never  felt  as  strongly  the  appeal  of  that  individu- 
ality which  was  so  large  a  part  of  her  personal  charm 
as  at  this  moment,  when  the  gulf  began  to  yawn  widely 
between  her  point  of  view  and  his  own. 

It  was,  perhaps,  the  very  directness  of  her  character 
as  opposed  to  his  own  more  devious  methods  that  at- 
tracted him,  for  there  were  strange  paradoxes  in  the 
nature  of  this  man;  and  expediency,  rather  than  defi- 
nite choice,  had  made  him  an  opportunist. 

He  had  never  been  analytical,  except  in  a  superficial 
sense;  but  suddenly,  as  though  he  were  physically 
drowning;  in  swift  kaleidescopic  flashes  he  caught  lu- 
minous glimpses  of  his  life,  and  through  them  he  came 
to  realize  that  it  was  something  far  deeper  than  im- 
pulse which  had  drawn  him  to  this  woman,  something 
more  evanescent  than  her  mental  gifts  or  her  physical 


THE   DAYSMAN  397 

loveliness  or  her  social  charm.  He  knew,  at  last,  that 
she  represented  to  him  a  beautiful  embodiment  of  his 
highest  aspirations;  that  through  the  very  quality  oE 
that  spirit  which  was  even  now  bringing  him  to  judg- 
ment she  had  seemed  to  preserve  for  him,  somehow,  the 
purest  hopes  of  his  youth  and  the  finest  memories  of 
his  manhood. 

With  the  new  impulse  for  self-criticism  strong  upon 
him,  he  saw  with  wonderful  clearness  the  significance 
of  the  crisis — he  knew  that  if  he  lost  her  he  would  lose 
his  better  self.  He  did  not  yet  know  that  the  severest 
penalty  of  failure  lies  in  the  fact  that  the  soul's  degen- 
eracy must  eventually  reflect  back  upon  itself;  that 
with  the  loss  of  moral  fibre  would  come  an  incapacity 
for  feeling  that  loss;  that  the  mind  must  finally  come 
to  dread  the  very  source  of  that  light  which  entailed 
its  condemnation;  that  the  heart  would  seek  the  luxury 
of  an  atmosphere  which  could  never  again  prove  its 
own  undoing;  but  for  one  passionate  instant  of  agon- 
ized longing,  he  imagined  that  he  would  have  given 
anything  on  earth  for  the  power  to  fulfill  the  promise 
of  those  unspoiled  ideals.  He  realized  that  he  must  say 
something;  make  a  last  fight  for  this  woman,  whom  he 
could  not  bear  to  lose.  But  how  was  he  to  proceed? 
What  could  he  do?  She  was  not  to  be  deluded  by  the 
glittering  mockery  of  false  sentiment,  nor  would  her 
mind  be  satisfied  with  misleading  eloquence.  In  the  in- 
tense bitterness  of  the  moment  he  thought  of  attempt- 
ing deception,  but  however  he  may  have  sinned  he  had 
not  lied  to  Carroll  Minturn,  and  with  her  clear  eyes  full 
upon  him  he  could  not  lie  to  her  now. 


398  THE   DAYSMAN 

They  were  both  still  standing:  she  had  not  left  the 
window,  and  against  a  background  of  richly  dark  hang- 
ings her  pale  face  and  golden  hair  were  merely  outlined 
through  the  incoming  twilight;  he,  with  one  elbow 
resting  upon  some  tall  bookshelves,  had  bowed  for  a 
moment,  his  head  upon  his  hand  until  a  fuller  inspira- 
tion should  come. 

At  last  he  spoke  and  his  voice,  no  longer  confident, 
appealed,  as  he  had  meant  that  it  should,  to  all  the 
tenderness  of  her  womanhood. 

"Whatever  my  enemies  may  have  said,  I  had  hoped, 
I  had  believed,  that  you  would  understand  me,  Carroll. 

"Suppose,"  he  went  on,  slowly,  "suppose  I  were  to 
tell  you  that  in  a  moment  of  great  temptation  I  had 
yielded  to  Fowler's  terms — remember,  Carroll,  that  it 
was  not  then  in  my  power  to,  also,  save  others — sup- 
pose I  were  to  tell  you  that  it  was  for  the  sake  of  my 
political  career;  because  I  was  just  getting  into  public 
life,  and  it  meant  my  little  all,  what  would  you  say  to 
me  then?" 

It  was  the  strongest  appeal  that  he  could  have  made, 
because  it  aimed  directly  at  her  sympathies,  and  be- 
cause it  was  the  kind  of  temptation  that  touched  the 
heart  of  her  own  ambitions. 

For  a  second  it  carried  her  off  of  her  feet,  and  she 
wanted  to  tell  him  that  she  understood,  to  say  that  she 
was  sorry,  and  then,  suddenly,  she  saw  again  the  log- 
ical sequence  of  events  by  which  she  had  been  able  to 
determine  the  power  of  the  original  motive;  she  real- 
ized the  sophistry  of  his  plea,  and  she  met  it  with  a 
question. 


THE   DAYSMAN  399 

"But  the  defense  of  my  father,  Clarence!  You  have 
not  told  me  why  you  delayed  that  defense." 

"Can  you  not  see,"  he  demanded  impatiently,  irri- 
tated beyond  measure  that  he  could  not  set  the  bounds 
of  her  reason  by  the  measure  of  his  own — "can  you 
not  see  how  I  have  always  been  hampered  by  that  fool- 
ish oath  to  Fowler?" 

"That  oath!"  she  exclaimed,  with  a  withering  scorn 
that  cut  him  to  the  quick.  "And  for  how  much  did 
such  an  oath  count  with  you  when  you  saw  that  you 
yourself  must  lose  more  by  keeping  it  than  by  break- 
ing it? 

"Ah,  don't  you  know  that  it  is  not  upon  separate 
acts  that  I  judge  you,  but  upon  the  determining  motive 
that  inspired  you  to  those  acts?  Can't  you  see  that  it 
is  yourself  whom  you  have  saved — always — yourself — 
at  whatever  cost?" 

She  saw  him  as  he  was.  She  realized  that  nothing 
but  a  complete  revolution  of  his  character  could  change 
him,  and  she  knew  that  such  a  change  was  impossible, 
because  his  virtues  had  ceased  to  be  of  value  to  him  ex- 
cept in  so  far  as  they  enabled  him  to  maintain  the  part 
he  had  set  himself  to  play. 

"But  Carroll,  Carroll,"  he  cried  desperately,  "you 
ignore  the  fact  that  my  attitude  toward  this  man  was 
no  longer  a  personal  matter — that  he  had  become  polit- 
ically useful;  that  he  was  needed  by  the  party-" 

"And  why  need  you  have  become  so  inextricably  en- 
tangled in  a  political  machine  that  your  honor  is  al- 
ways forfeit?"  she  demanded  passionately.  "As  an 
uncorrupted  patriot,  have  you  not  professed  to  scorn 


400  THE   DAYSMAN 

men  who  could  be  bought  for  money,  and  yet  how  de- 
liberately you  have  sold  yourself  for  a  transient  polit- 
ical power !  Party  is  with  you  but  a  sort  of  corporate  I 
behind  whose  skirts  you  have  hidden  the  individual  ego, 
and  tried  to  convince  yourself  that  the  end  could  jus- 
tify the  means." 

Never  had  she  seemed  more  beautiful  than  through 
the  splendor  of  her  magnificent  scorn  and,  although  he 
quailed  beneath  her  denunciation,  it  was  the  supreme 
irony  of  his  punishment  that  the  heaven  of  her  ap- 
proval had  never  seemed  so  desirable. 

"This,  then,  is  final?"  he  demanded,  with  a  bitter 
sense  of  defeat. 

' '  Could  you  think  it  possible  for  it  to  be  otherwise  ? ' ' 
she  asked,  quietly. 

And  then  he  knew  why  he  had  failed.  In  that  in- 
stant of  clear  vision  which  would  never  be  his  again  he 
looked  upon  the  heights  of  potential  attainment  and 
he  realized  something  of  the  abysmal  depths  to  which 
he  had  fallen. 

Senator  and  Mrs.  Carroll  were  entertaining  at  din- 
ner that  evening,  but  Senator  Minturn,  who  was  leav- 
ing town  for  a  few  days  and  had  run  in  early,  caught 
his  daughter  for  a  few  minutes  alone  in  the  library. 

''I  wanted  to  say  good-bye,  daughter  and  you  are 
just  a  trifle  pale;  I  wondered  if "  he  hesitated. 

"For  the  first  time  in  many  a  moon,  dearest,  I  am 
sure  that  all  is  well,"  she  replied,  smiling. 

There  was  an  impression  of  veiled  power  about  her 
which  he  could  not  quite  define ;  a  subtle  mystery  of 


THE  DAYSMAN  401 

latent  strength  that  enveloped  her  in  a  soft  radiance. 
He  was  accustomed  to  feel  the  fascination  of  her  most 
brilliant  moods,  but  in  this  settled  poise  she  seemed  ex- 
quisitely lovable  and  far  more  alluring.  Then  all  at 
once,  with  the  swift  penetrating  insight  of  affection,  he 
realized  that  this  poise  had  come  to  her  like  a  splendid 
after-glow  of  nature,  that  she  had  found  her  highest 
self  through  the  very  tests  which  her  spirit  had  just 
imposed. 

"Yes,  dearest,"  as  she  looked  into  his  anxious  eyes, 
"I  was  a  bit  shaken.  It  meant  more  and  something 
less,  perhaps,  than  just  the  dismissal  of  a  man.  You 
see,"  gravely,  "there  was  a  charger  to  be  taken  into  ac- 
count, and  I  have  always  ignored  the  relative  signifi- 
cance of  the  rider. 

"I  think,"  she  began  presently,  and  her  smile  was 
thoughtful,  almost  naive,  "I  am  quite  sure  that  he  was 
not  really  hurt.  He  thought  that  love  was  wounded, 
but  I  know  better  than  he  how  quickly  the  injury  to 
his  heart  may  be  repaired  through  his  vanity. 

"As  for  me,  dearest,"  she  paused  and  there  was  a 
mist  of  tenderness  in  her  eyes,  "in  my  wilful  blindness, 
best  of  fathers,  I  have  been  unworthy  of  you !  Do  you 
remember  Guinevere's  confession: 

"  '  It  was  my  duty  to  have  loved  the  highest : 
It  surely  was  my  profit  had  I  known: 
It  would  have  been  my  pleasure  had  I  seen. 
We  needs  must  love  the  highest  when  we  see  it, 
Not  Launcelot,  nor  another.'  ' 


402  THE  DAYSMAN 

There  was  a  poignant  thrill  of  personal  emotion  in 
her  voice,  and  as  she  finished  the  lines  the  room  was 
very  still;  but  a  moment  later,  when  she  looked  up, 
Treverin  was  standing  in  the  door. 

"Forgive  me,  I  must  be  intruding,"  he  began  with 
quick  apology,  "but  I  was  told  that  I  was  to  have  the 
honor  of  taking  you  in,  and  your  Aunt  assured  me  that 
I  might  find  you  here." 

"You  are  perfectly  right,  Mr.  Treverin,"  she  re- 
turned with  cordial  frankness  as  she  gave  him  a  cold 
little  hand.  "I  shall  want  you,  besides,  to  condole  with 
me,  for  I'm  telling  my  father  good-bye." 

"This  is  most  opportune,  my  dear  Jack,"  exclaimed 
the  older  man,  warmly;  "I  wanted  to  ask  you  if  you 

thought  I  should  be  able  to  get  hold  of before  he 

leaves  New  York." 

"I'll  see  to  it  that  you  do,  Senator,  and,  as  I  mean 
to  be  back  myself  on  Tuesday,  please  remember  that 
you've  promised  me  a  few  days  for  a  cruise,  sir.  By 
tht  way,"  he  added,  with  swift  impulsiveness, 
"couldn't  you  manage  a  little  voyage  into  Southern 
waters — you  and  Miss  Minturn,  with  Senator  and  Mrs. 
Carroll,  and  any  one  else  whom  you  care  to  suggest? 
It  would  be  awfully  jolly,  and  please  don't  say  no  until 
you've  thought  it  over.  I'm  going  to  get  Miss  Minturn 
enlisted  tonight,"  he  laughed  mischievously,  as  he 
turned  to  the  girl,  "and  then  the  rest  of  you  can't  hold 
out" 

"I'm  enlisted  already,"  and  she  smiled  at  Trev- 
erin, while  her  eyes  were  upon  her  father's  face. 


THE  DAYSMAN  403 

"Shouldn't  you  like  to  run  away  for  a  while,  father?" 
she  asked  coaxingly. 

"I  shall  promise  to  think  about  it,  daughter.  It 
would  certainly  be  a  pleasure,  Mr.  Treverin,"  he  re- 
turned smiling. 

Senator  Minturn  had  been  gone  but  a  moment  when 
the  girl  turned  to  Treverin,  and  put  out  her  hand  again 
with  that  swift  spontaneous  impulsiveness  which  the 
man  thought  her  greatest  charm. 

"Mr.  Treverin,"  she  began  quickly,  "at  two  very 
critical  moments  of  my  life  you  have  generously  come 
to  my  rescue,  and  this  is  the  second  time  that  you  have 
rather  ungenerously,  I  think  (and  her  smiling  eyes 
looked  straight  into  his  own)  almost  deprived  me  of 
the  pleasure  of  expressing  my  appreciation. 

"I  never  expect,"  she  continued,  with  a  grave  and 
sweet  sincerity,  "to  be  able  to  tell  you  quite  all  that  I 
feel  about  your  splendid  vindication  of  my  father." 

He  noticed  her  slight  emphasis  on  the  pronoun.  He 
knew  also  why  she  failed  to  refer  to  Beverly's  part  in 
the  defense  and  in  the  hope  of  relieving  the  tension  of 
the  moment  he  responded,  gravely: 

"Believe  me,  Miss  Minturn,  when  I  say  that  the 
pleasure  of  serving  you  and  your  father  is  in  itself  a 

reward  that  any  man "  he  caught  himself  quickly 

and  changed  the  conventional  phrase  to —  "a  reward 
worth  striving  for.  But  where  else  have  I  been  so  for- 
tunate as  in  this  one  trifling  instance?" 

For  a  brief  second  he  had  retained  the  hand  which 
she  withdrew  as  she  asked  demurely: 


404  THE  DAYSMAN 

"Has  Monsieur  forgotten  a  little  scene  on  the  desert? 
The  dramatis  personae  were,  let  me  think,  a  cool  young 
man,  a  frightened  maid,  a  brute  of  a  desperado,  a  very 

wilful  child  and "  there  was  a  roguish  twinkle  in 

her  eyes  as  she  added  naively — "the  cool  young  man 
vanished  with  remarkable  suddenness,  after  the  last 
act." 

"Was  it  you?"  he  asked  wonderingly,  and  then,  "I 
have  sometimes  thought  that  I  must  have  known  you 
always,"  he  said. 


THE  DAYSMAN  405 


CHAPTER   XI. 

"Space   is   as   nothing   to   spirit,   the    deed   is  outdone   by   the 

doing; 
The  heart  of  the  wooer  is  warm,  but  warmer  the  heart  of 

the  wooing; 
And  up   from  the  pits  where  these  shiver,   and  up   from  the 

heights   where  those   shine, 

Twin  voices  and  shadows  swim  starward,  and  the  essence  of 
life  is  divine." 

—Richard  Realf. 

THE  sun  was  hanging,  a  fiery  brilliance,  above  the 
outer  edge  of  the  canyon's  rim,  while  slumberous 
shadows,  deepening  from  blue  to  violet,  from  violet  into 
black,  mounted  slowly  through  the  enfathomed  depths. 

Mists  that  had  been  brooding  all  day  in  far  recesses 
of  the  rocks  were  creeping  forth  from  a  labyrinthine 
network  of  cavernous  fissures,  stealing  through  the 
deepening  twilight,  clinging  along  the  cliffs  and  en- 
shrouding the  mighty  gorge  with  impenetrable  mystery. 

Through  this  haze  of  golden  radiance  the  whole  in- 
tricate system  of  minor  canyons — each  yawning  niche, 
each  gigantic  gap,  each  frowning  declivity  and  each 
stupendous  cleft — not  fully  concealed  and  but  half  re- 
vealed, was  suggested  in  the  single  instant  of  one  great 
impression,  while  here  and  there  submerged  mountains 
of  gorgeously  tinted  limestone  were  flushed  into  rosy 
splendor,  and  huge  solitary  crags  of  adamantine  basalt 


406  THE  DAYSMAN 

stood  out  boldly  in  the  fading  light,  like  sombre  colos- 
sal forms  in  the  dim  amphitheatre  of  Nature. 

And  over  all  was  an  immensity  of  silence  so  pro- 
found, of  solitude  so  vast,  that  the  faint  sounds  of  life 
which  reached  them  came  like  distant  echoes  that  had 
originated  in  another  world.  A  girl's  clear  laugh  rang 
out  from  the  hotel  veranda,  and  in  the  music-room 
some  one  was  singing  Verdi's  "Miserere,"  while  the 
weird  monotony  of  an  Indian  dance  that  was  going  on 
in  the  Hopi  House  beyond  seemed  but  another  primi- 
tive yearning  for  that  harmony  which  would  find  its 
highest  fulfillment  in  the  "music  of  the  spheres." 

They  had,  in  their  secluded  nook,  been  for  a  long 
time  silent,  watching  the  stupendous  glory  of  those 
phantasmagorial  changes  that  here  mark  the  splendor 
of  a  dying  day. 

It  was  the  man  who  spoke  first. 

"And  it  always  ends  at  last,"  he  said,  musingly,  "in 
a  sort  of  twilight  of  the  gods." 

"Yes,"  and  there  was  a  dreamy  note  in  the  voice 
that  answered  in  swift  response  to  his  thought.  "The 
altars  alone  are  left  standing.  Like  lofty  pinnacles, 
they  mark  the  passing  of  a  former  worship.  You 
showed  me  the  hammer  of  Thor,  today,  and  away  over 
there,  do  you  see,  is  the  rock  where  Brunhilde  was  put 
to  sleep.  The  fires  are  out,  the  flames  quenched;  the 
anger  of  Wotan  is  appeased,  and,  of  eons  ago,  from  that 
fantastic  escarpment  yonder,  perhaps,  the  Walkiiren 
sounded  their  last  'Hoyotoho.'  " 

"And  the  forge,  look!"  he  exclaimed  suddenly,  hold- 
ing the  spirit  of  her  mood.  "Do  you  see?  It  is  no 


THE  DAYSMAN  407 

longer  cold !  The  anvil  rings,  the  sparks  fly  and  some- 
one is  welding  a  sword!" 

They  were  standing  near  the  rim,  almost  on  the 
brink,  and  she  leaned  far  out  over  the  precipice,  her 
glance  following  his  and  her  breath  coming  quickly 
from  between  slightly  parted  lips.  Beneath  her  long 
wrap  his  hand  had  sought  and  found  hers,  and  she  felt 
that  his  warm  breath  lightly  stirred  her  hair. 

"It  is  the  magic  sword  of  Siegfried,"  she  breathed; 
"of  Siegfried,  the  victorious." 

The  sun  had  dropped  lower,  and  a  long  slanting  ray 
of  light  striking  directly  upon  a  huge  isolated  boulder 
had  transformed  it  suddenly  into  picturesque  grandeur. 

"How  wonderful,  Jack!"  she  exclaimed  at  last,  as 
she  turned  upon  him  her  luminous  eyes.  "I  think  I 
have  never  seen  a  more  remarkable  effect!" 

He  was  thrilled  with  the  pure  joy  of  feeling  that  she 
was  strongly  moved,  and  already  John  Treverin  had 
acquired  that  vital  responsiveness  of  spirit  which  kin- 
dled her  warm  enthusiasms  and  vivid  fancies  with  po- 
etic fire. 

There  had  always  been  between  them  a  swiftness  of 
mental  understanding  which  held  in  it  a  large  promise 
of  happiness.  In  the  early  days  of  their  friendship, 
when  the  charm  of  their  intercourse  had  consisted,  for 
her,  at  least,  in  the  more  brilliant  fascinations  of  the 
mind,  he  had  gloried  in  the  free  and  elemental  play 
of  their  intellectual  sympathies,  because  he  had  realized 
that  through  this  means  alone  he  was  able  to  maintain 
his  place  in  the  life  of  this  lovely  and  gifted  woman. 

Later,  after  she  had  broken  with  Beverly,  as  their 


408  THE  DAYSMAN 

intimacy  grew,  there  had  been  still  so  large  an  element 
of  this  magical  attraction  in  their  relation  that  he  had 
wondered,  sometimes,  if  he  were  ever  to  get  beneath 
the  surface;  if  he  were  ever  to  find  the  real  Carroll 
Minturn. 

Through  that  talk  of  long  ago  with  her  father,  John 
Treverin  had  blazed  a  trail  before  him,  as  he  had  meant 
to  do,  and  time  and  chance  and  circumstance  had 
seemed  to  carry  the  rest. 

As  he  watched,  however,  for  the  birth  of  love  in  her 
eyes  there  had  come  to  him  a  mighty  yearning  to 
fathom  the  mystery  of  her  nature,  to  understand  the 
woman  he  loved,  as  she  had  never  dreamed  of  being 
understood. 

Through  the  short  months  of  their  brief  courtship, 
with  the  early  freshness  of  a  new-born  love  surround- 
ing her,  he  had  realized  that  she  was  intense  and  high- 
ly strung,  but  not  emotional  and,  therefore,  he  had 
waited  anxiously  for  the  dawning  of  a  passion  in  which 
he  realized  that  there  must  be  an  exquisite  blending  of 
sense  with  soul  and  the  finest  essence  of  spirit  and 
mind.  Love,  with  her,  he  believed,  must  have  an  in- 
spiration that  was  larger  than  the  personal;  otherwise, 
it  could  not  be  vital;  and  as  he  looked  down  now  into 
his  wife's  radiant  eyes,  John  Treverin  was  wondering 
if  her  heart  were  entirely  satisfied. 

They  had  been  married  in  the  brilliant  glory  of  one 
of  October's  golden  days — not  amid  the  pomp  and 
ceremony  of  a  fashionable  Fall  wedding  at  Lenox,  as 
Aunt  Anne  had  planned,  but  in  the  quiet  beauty  of  a 


THE  DAYSMAN  409 

Southern  noon,  with  just  her  father  and  a  few  of  "the 
dearest  old  friends." 

Aunt  Anne  had  reasoned,  protested  and  implored  in 
vain;  even  Uncle  Harry  had  remonstrated,  but  Car- 
roll had  won  the  day  with  the  characteristic  remark 
that  father  approved,  and  she  thought  she  and  Jack 
could  afford  to  do  exactly  as  they  pleased.  Why  should 
she  have  to  go  through  with  anything  but  the  simple 
little  service  which  they  both  preferred?  Even  Eliza- 
beth and  Rick  were  detained  in  Arizona  by  an  unfor- 
tunate combination  of  circumstances. 

"To  think,  you  dear  darling,"  wrote  Jack's  sister, 
"that  I  shan't  be  able  to  see  you  married!  'The  boy' 
is  down  with  measles — a  light  attack — but  the  doctor 
says  he  won't  be  well  enough  to  travel  for  weeks,  and, 
I  couldn't  leave  him,  you  know;  I  never  have. 

"As  for  Rick,  since  the  referendum  plan  was  adopt- 
ed, anti-joint  statehood  sentiment,  always  pronounced 
here,  has  broken  out  in  a  most  virulent  form,  and 
Rick's  doom  is  sealed  until  after  the  election." 

"Jack,"  Carroll  had  exclaimed  suddenly,  after  read- 
ing this  letter,  "couldn't  we  have  part,  at  least,  of  our 
lune  de  miel  in  Arizona?"  and  she  had  never  forgotten 
how  his  face  had  lighted  up  as  he  responded: 

"Nothing  would  please  me  better,  I  think.  The  plan 
to  spend  it  all  on  'The  Little  Corsican'  was  made  en- 
tirely for  you,  Princess." 

"I  know,"  she  had  replied  gently.  "I  wanted  that 
at  first  because  I  learned  to  love  you  at  sea.  But  now! 
Sometimes  I  think  there  is — another — you — bound  up 


410  THE  DAYSMAN 

in  Arizona,  and,"  her  eyes  were  very  wistful,  as  she 
added,  "I'm  not  sure  that  I  have  found  him  yet." 

"Dear  heart!"  was  all  that  he  had  said,  but  there 
was  a  world  of  tenderness  in  his  eyes. 

And  so,  after  a  fortnight  at  sea,  they  had  left  the 
yacht  at  a  Southern  port  and  had  come  directly  on  to 
Arizona,  where  she  had  insisted  upon  finding  "the 
very  spot"  in  the  desert  which  had  been  "consecrated" 
to  their  first  meeting;  and  upon  other  delightful  ab- 
surdities connected  with  his  boyhood. 

At  last  they  had  surprised  Elizabeth  by  dropping  in 
at  "Rocklands"  on  evening  just  at  dinner  time;  when, 
as  Rick  put  it,  they  were  supposed  to  be  "harmlessly 
happy  and  several  hundred  leagues  at  sea." 

"We're  hardly  sure  that  we've  come  down  to  earth 
yet,"  returned  Carroll  merrily.  "I  asked  Jack  yes- 
terday, if  he  imagined  that  I  could  be  interesting  for 
five  minutes  to  any  one  else  but  him." 

"And  what  did  he  say?"  asked  Elizabeth  mischiev- 
ously. 

"Oh,"  returned  the  girl  with  a  charming  blush, 
"his  answer  wasn't  at  all  satisfactory,  or,  at  least, 
hardly  calculated  to  appeal  to  one's  reason." 

"Then  it  must  have  aimed  to  make  an  impression 
upon  one's  heart,"  smiled  Elizabeth  Wood,  demurely. 

That  had  been  the  gayest  of  reunions  at  "Rock- 
lands,"  and  Carroll's  happiness  over  it  made  her  hus- 
band's heart  glow. 

Even  in  his  lover's  imagination  of  the  girl  he  had 
never  dreamed  of  this  radiancy  of  glory  that  seemed  to 
envelop  her  in  the  bloom  of  her  womanhood.  It  was 


THE  DAYSMAN  411 

as  though,  having  tasted  at  the  springs  of  earth,  she 
had  come  at  last  to  wait  in  all  the  fine  simplicity  of 
her  nature  at  the  fountain  head  of  life  for  him  who 
could  draw  her  portion  from  the  deep,  sweet  well  of 
love. 

"She's  adorable,  Jack,"  his  sister  had  told  him,  with 
enthusiasm.  "She's  so  altogether  charming  that  one 
can  quite  forgive  her  intellect,  which  is  more  than  can 
be  said  of  most  of  our  sex  to  whom  knowledge  is  dan- 
gerous, because  it  usually  makes  us  so  extremely  un- 
lovely. Rick  admires  her  immensely;  he  was  awfully 
afraid  from  what  he  had  heard  that  she  was  going  to 
be  the  sort  of  woman  who  said  'an  undisputed  thing  in 
such  a  solemn  way,'  but  instead  of  that  they've  be- 
come positively  'chummy.'  I  imagine,"  with  a  twin- 
kle, "that  the  topic  upon  which  they  are  most  thor- 
oughly at  one  is  this  dear,  big  brother  of  mine,"  and 
she  squeezed  his  arm  affectionately. 

"  'The  boy'  worships  her  with  all  the  ardor  of  his 
years,  and  as  for  Uncle  M'nassah,  he  fairly  beams, 
like  a  sort  of  benignant  black  Providence.  I  overheard 
him  remarking  to  Liza  only  this  morning :  '  I  done  raise 
dat  chile;  an'  fo'  Gawd,  Marse  John  do  look  mighty 
proud  dat  he  got  her;  but  I  'dopted  him  long  ago;  de 
fust  time  I  set  eyes  on  'im  back  da  in  Washin 'ton ! " 

And  so,  at  length,  they  were  on  their  way  home. 
Home?  Was  New  York,  then,  to  be  home,  at  last?  He 
realized  for  the  first  time  that  the  thought  had  power, 
no  longer,  to  cause  him  bitterness. 

He  had  always  believed,  and  he  had  been  wont  to 
say,  that  a  man's  real  home  could  only  be  found  in  the 


412.  THE  DAYSMAN 

land  of  his  heart's  desire;  and,  until  tonight,  had  that 
not  meant  for  him,  at  least,  this  country  called  Ari- 
zona? 

Was  it  the  superb  optimism  of  love,  alone,  that  had 
somehow  wrought  the  change,  or  could  it  be,  rather, 
that  his  own  views  of  life  had  come,  gradually,  to  al- 
ter? 

He  had  never  cared  much  for  power  in  the  abstract, 
and  yet  now,  he  knew,  that  he  was  glad — more  glad 
than  he  ever  believed  he  could  possibly  be,  that  he  had 
what  men  called,  "the  best  of  the  earth"  to  lay  at  this 
woman's  feet. 

He  remembered  the  passion  of  regret  with  which  he 
had  surrendered  his  youthful  dream — the  tremendous 
temptation  that  had  assailed  him,  at  times,  to  "throw 
it  all  over"  and  return.  During  the  steady  grind  of 
those  first  years  he  had  felt  that  there  was  supreme 
irony  in  the  Fate  that  had  made  him  a  junior  partner 
in  "Freeman  and  Company,"  when  he  would  so  in- 
finitely have  preferred  the  broader  freedom  and  the 
eternal  romance  of  a  life  bound  up  with  the  West. 
There  had  been  days  when  he  had  longed  with  a  mighty 
passionate  longing  for  the  wide,  hot  stretches  of  the 
desert;  for  its  palpitant  heat;  its  far  horizons,  and 
that  pure  delusion  of  atmosphere  which  creates  the 
mystic  mirage.  There  had  been  nights  when  he  had 
yearned,  with  an  intense  yearning,  for  the  cooling 
breath  of  the  hills;  for  the  dim  blue  outlines  of  moun- 
tain masses  that  loomed  in  distant  darkness  against  a 
moonlit  sgy,  for  the  weird  pathos  of  a  coyote's  cry; 
for  the  brilliant  canopy  of  the  friendly  stars;  and 


THE  DAYSMAN  413 

when,  at  length,  out  of  troubled  sleep,  he  had  awakened 
in  the  cold  grey  light  of  a  cheerless  dawn — wildly 
athirst  for  such  life  as  can  be  drunk  at  the  fountains 
of  Nature  alone;  there  had  been  only  the  clatter  of 
the  early  milk  carts  in  the  avenue  below  to  respond  to 
an  inward  craving  of  the  soul. 

Oh,  it  had  been  hard — cruelly  hard — but,  at  last, 
thank  heaven,  it  was  over;  and  as  he  looked  back  from 
the  heights  of  his  present  happiness,  he  felt  as  he 
thought  a  man  might  feel  who  stood  at  the  grave  of 
his  youth. 

He  loved  this  country  still.  More,  he  believed,  than 
he  had  ever  been  capable  of  loving  it  in  the  blind  pas- 
sion of  his  boyhood.  He  felt  that  he  would  never 
cease  to  love  it;  but  he  knew  that  his  love,  no  longer, 
had  the  power  to  cause  him  pain.  Instead  of  that  bit- 
terness of  renunciation  which  had  always  assailed  him, 
at  the  thought  of  leaving  it,  there  was  now  a  tranquil- 
ity — strange  and  new — of  something  that  looked  like 
peace.  But  how  had  this  come  to  pass — and  why — he 
wondered — why  ? 

' '  Jack, ' '  said  a  low,  sweet  voice  at  his  ear,  '  •  I  should 
like  to  tell  you  a  story." 

"Yes,  my  love,"  he  had  responded,  gently,  "your 
husband  waits  to  hear." 

There  had  been  another  long  silence  between  them — 
a  silence  of  perfect  understanding.  To  his  own  sur- 
prise, she  had  already  won  from  him  much  of  this  story 
of  his  past,  and  while  his  heart  had  grown  lighter  with 
.the  telling,  the  wonder  and  the  mystery  had  deepened 
in  her  eyes. 


414  THE  DAYSMAN 

"It  is  a  sort  of  fairy  tale,  Jack,  that  has  grown  so 
very  slowly — but  tonight,  I  saw  the  end,  I  think — 
through  the  welding  of  the  sword."  With  a  little  fer- 
vent gesture,  that  was  peculiarly  her  own,  she  threw 
out  the  hand  that  was  free  and  included  all  of  the  sun- 
set. 

Surrounded  by  the  splendor  of  the  dying  day,  en- 
veloped in  its  rosy  flush  of  glory,  she  seemed  to  have 
been  transfigured  before  him  into  some  lovely  prophet- 
ess, whose  temperamental  endowments  had  prepared 
her  to  foretell  the  future,  not  through  miraculous  pow- 
ers of  divination,  but  out  of  a  large  and  wonderful  con- 
ception of  the  past. 

Her  beauty  seemed  strangely  etherealized  by  some 
vision  of  the  beyond;  and  a  sudden  momentary  fear 
clutched  at  his  heart — the  fear  that  he  should  ever  lose 
her  for,  with  all  of  her  passionate  ardor,  he  knew  that 
she  was  singularly  unworldly. 

"Don't,  dear,"  he  exclaimed  quickly,  as  he  drew  her 
closer,  "don't  look  like  that!  You  were,  almost,  for 
that  moment,  a  sort  of  exquisite  feminine  Elijah,  and, ' ' 
he  smiled  as  he  felt  the  warm  fluttering  of  the  soft 
hand  in  his  own,  "I  don't  intend  to  have  you  trans- 
late.d  even  in  a  chariot  of  fire." 

In  her  low  laugh  there  was  a  ripple  of  music  that 
was  singularly  human  and  very  sweet. 

"Don't  you  know  by  this  time,"  she  asked,  humor- 
ously, "that  I  see  all  my  visions  through  a  single  per- 
sonality, and,  my  dear,  my  dear,  in  this  fairy  tale,  at 
last,  there  is  a  Prince." 

"But  not  a  charger??"  he  challenged,  smiling, 


THE  DAYSMAN  415 

"A  most  wonderful  charger  as  well  as  a  sword!"  she 
flashed  back  at  him,  triumphantly. 

"But  I  have  a  prejudice  against  chargers,"  with  a 
lugubrious  shake  of  his  head.  "No  doubt  it's  because 
you  have  always  admired  them,  and  I  don't  happen  to 
have  one  of  my  own.  I  was  once,"  he  smiled  reminis- 
cently,  "furiously  jealous  of  a  charger,  and  I  fear 
that  it  was  just  because  it  belonged  to  another  man." 

"Please,"  she  whispered,  reproachfully,  and,  under 
cover  of  the  deepening  shadows,  a  light  hand  was  laid 
across  his  lips;  "wait  until  you've  heard  the  story  and 
then,  I  am  sure,  you'll  know." 

"Tell  it  to  me,  my  darling,"  he  said  gently,  and 
with  his  arm  he  drew  her  closer  until,  like  a  homing 
bird,  she  was  nestled  softly  against  his  heart. 

"In  a  'far  country,'  "  she  began  slowly,  "there  was 
born,  once  upon  a  time,  the  Prince,  and  he  wanted,  by 
deeds  of  daring  do,  to  win  for  himself  a  kingdom. 

"Now  this  Prince  had  a  very  wise  father  who  had 
himself,  in  the  fervor  of  youth,  renounced  very  much 
for  the  sake,  he  had  thought,  of  what  was  infinitely 
more.  The  father  of  the  Prince,  it  was  said,  had  gone 
forth  from  his  own  land  and  had  arrived  in  the  'far 
country,'  armed  with  a  single  trusty  sword — that 
sword  which  the  gods  vouchsafe  to  the  young — called 
strength  and  hope  and  courage.  All  his  life  this  man 
had  valiantly  fought;  the  odds  had  been  heavy;  and 
when,  at  length,  the  kingdom  was  won,  there  lay  at  his 
feet  but  the  fragments  of  his  sword. 

"Now  in  this  'far  country'  were  giants  to  be  slain; 
but  what  could  the  Prince's  father  do  with  a  kingdom 


416  THE  DAYSMAN 

to  guard,  and — a  broken  sword;  so  he  said  to  himself, 
at  the  very  last,  'My  boy  must  be  greater,  far  greater, 
than  I ;  greater  than  any  princeling  here ;  or  I  fear  me, 
he  cannot  slay  the  giants.' 

"And  thus  it  chanced  that  the  Prince  went  back — 
back  to  that  kingdom  which  his  father  had  renounced 
— and  with  him  he  took  that  broken  sword,  with  which 
gods  were  wont  to  arm  brave  men,  but  the  sword  must 
needs  be  welded. 

"Now  times  had  changed  in  the  kingdom  of  the  East, 
where  men  no  longer  did  battle  with  the  sword;  where 
victories  were  won  and  triumphs  were  achieved  with 
a  strange,  new,  powerful  magic.  But  the  Prince,  who 
was  loyal  and  true  of  heart,  felt  that  duty  still  called 
him  to  weld  the  sword  and  to  fight  with  this  weapon 
that  seemed  very  old  to  the  cohorts  of  the  East. 

"So  he  took  his  leave  of  the  glittering  throng  and, 
armed  with  his  sword,  went  alone,  toward  the  West — 
back  to  the  'far  country.'  ' 

For  a  long  moment  there  was  silence;  and  when,  at 
last,  the  sweet  voice  went  on,  it  was  very  gentle  and 
richly  low  with  the  tenderness  of  a  caress. 

' '  And  when,  at  length,  the  Prince  arrived  in  the 
country  of  his  dreams,  he  said  to  himself:  'Here  I 
ween,  at  last,  the  sword  of  my  father  must  still  hold 
sway;  that  sword  which  the  gods  were  wont  to  give, 
called  strength  and  hope  and  courage.' 

"So  he  welded  the  sword  and  he  girded  it  on;  and 
he  sought  out  a  Wise  Man  of  the  West,  and  he  asked: 
'I  pray  thee,  how  may  I  find  the  giants  that  my  father 


THE  DAYSMAN  417 

used  to  fight;  my  father,  who  warred  so  valiantly  with 
naught  but  his  magic  sword.' 

"But  the  Wise  Man  shook  his  head.  '0  Prince,'  he 
answered,  'even  here  the  power  of  the  sword  is  pass- 
ing away;  the  giants  fall  no  more,  except  at  the  touch 
of  a  potent  magic,  called  money.' 

"Then,  the  Prince,  at  last  read  the  signs  of  the  times, 
and  he  said :  '  I,  too,  will  have  this  power — this  strange, 
new  magic — that  slays  the  giants';  but  his  heart  was 
bitter  within  him." 

A  soft  hand  had  crept  up  to  his  face  and  light,  cool 
fingers  stroked  his  cheek. 

"So  back  to  the  East  went  this  brave  young  Prince; 
and  he  fought,  and — he  won."  There  was  a  low  thrill 
of  triumphant  pride  in  her  voice.  "Till  he  stood 
alone;  towering  above  the  kings  of  the  East,  who  were 
proud  to  own  him  their  over-lord.  'For,'  they  said, 
'our  Prince  hath  that  potent  charm,  which  is  spoken  of 
sometimes,  as  'knowing  the  game;  his  hand  is  sure  and 
his  head  is  cool;  but  he  has  the  secret — secret  of  pow- 
er.' 

"And  the  kings  of  the  West,  they  also  bowed,  for 
he  sent  them  the  magic  that  slays  the  giants.  'This 
magic,'  said  they,  'is  precious  and  rare;  e'en  the  kings 
of  the  East  say  'tis  hard  to  find;  and  they  care  not 
to  spare  us  over-much;  but,  selfishly,  keep  it  to  wage 
their  own  wars. 

"  'But  this  Prince,  who  was  one  of  us  once,'  they 
said,  '  as  a  Daysman  stands  with  his  hand  on  us  both ; 
with  his  heart  in  the  West,  while  his  head  rules  the 
East;  he  stands  detached;  he  stands  alone!  Set  apart, 


418  THE  DAYSMAN 

as  an  umpire,  in  singular  power;  set  apart  because  he 
hath  ruled  himself;  our  Daysman  holds  much  of  the 
world  in  his  grasp — and,  at  last,  he  must  needs  have 
his  heart's  desire.'  " 

She  waited  for  a  brief  second,  and  he  felt  the  quiver- 
ing breath  of  a  long,  tremulous  sigh. 

''And  then,"  she  went  on  slowly,  "one  day  he  found 
the  Princess. 

"She  was  a  very  foolish  Princess;  for  she  hadn't 
even  discovered  what  she  really  wanted  most.  She 
knew  that  she  had  an  abstract  fancy  for  two  fiery 
chargers,  called  Honor  and  Fame;  and  she  imagined 
that  the  way  to  happiness  would  have  to  be  carved  out 
for  her  with  a  jeweled  and  flaming  sword;  thus  it 
chanced  that  this  silly  Princess  was  so  very  much  oc- 
cupied in  the  armory  of  life,  that  she  almost  missed — 
the  Prince;  and,  while  she  watched  the  tournaments 
and  the  jousting,  her  eyes  were  mostly  upon — the 
chargers. 

"One  day,  however,  by  some  strange  accident,  she 
found  herself  no  longer  a  spectator  at  the  tournament, 
for  the  poor  little  Princess  had  wandered  by  chance  di- 
rectly into  the  lists." 

There  was  a  swift  contraction  of  her  muscles,  and  her 
voice  sounded  low  and  tense. 

"The  Princess  was  at  first  bewildered;  but  she  did 
not  realize  the  danger  of  the  situation  sufficiently  to 
be  frightened  about  the  consequences  until,  suddenly, 
she  seemed  almost  under  the  feet  of  a  huge,  prancing 
charger  that  had  nearly  ridden  her  down.  It  was  then 
that  the  Prince  appeared." 


THE  DAYSMAN  419 

There  was  a  long,  dramatic  pause,  during  which,  he 
knew,  that  her  breath  was  coming  more  easily;  that 
her  body  had  relaxed,  as  she  rested  within  his  encir- 
cling arm. 

"The  Prince,  I  think,  had  realized  the  horror  of  her 
fate.  He  had  watched  and  he  had  waited,  so — the 
Princess  was  not  lost. 

"He  was  disguised,  I  imagine,"  she  went  on  slowly, 
"at  least  the  Princess  never  could  remember,  after- 
wards, whether  he  wore  shining  armor  or  not;  but  he 
seemed  so  strong  and  clever  that  he.  hardly  needed  a 
sword,  and  as  for  the  charger!  How  glad  she  was, 
that  his  charger  was  invisible,  at  the  time,  for  you  will 
remember  that  it  was  one  of  these  fearsome  beasts  that 
had  almost  proved  her  undoing;  and  she  felt  as  though 
she  couldn't  have  borne  to  be  near  one,  soon  again. 

"Of  one  thing,  however,  she  was  very,  very,  sure— 
and  this  was,  that,  at  last,  she  seemed  absolutely  safe — 
safer  than  she  had  ever  felt  in  all  her  life  before — 
safer  than  she  had  even  dreamed  that  a  Princess  could 
come  to  feel. 

"And  what  do  you  think  the  Prince  had  said  as  he 
carried  the  Princess  away?" 

"What  could  it  have  been,  sweetheart?" 

"He  said,"  in  a  voice  that  trembled  as  it  lingered 
on  the  words: 

"  'I  am  thine  husband — not  a   smaller  soul, 
Nor  Lancelot,  nor  another.'  ' 

With  a  swift,  masterful  movement  he  had  her  in  his 


420  THE  DAYSMAN 

arms.  Heart  to  heart,  cheek  to  cheek,  soul  to  soul,  at 
last;  and  in  one  supreme  moment,  while  their  lips 
clung,  he  knew  that  she  was  satisfied. 

"Do  you  remember,"  she  whispered  presently,  "that 
I  said  there  was  a  charger?"  and  then,  without  wait- 
ing for  his  answer,  she  went  on  in  a  still,  soft  voice: 

"My  knight  is  in  shining  armor  clad — for  no  other 
eyes  than  mine ;  my  Prince  bears  a  jeweled  sword,  with 
which  to  guard  our  freedom ;  my  king  has  a  winged  steed 
— a  glorious  creature  of  light,  with  which  he  is  able 
to  bear  us,  at  will,  to  the  land  of  heart's  desire.  For 
love  to  be  vital  as  sentiment  must  also  be  vital  as  fact 
— and  your  love  for  this  country,  your  love  for  me, 
have  been  greater  to  you  than  yourself. 

"And  now,  do  you  know  why  you  are  going  home 
without  a  pang  of  pain?" 

Her  head  was  on  his  breast,  her  hands  still  clasped 
his  neck,  and  his  face  was  drawn  down  to  hers. 

"Heart  of  my  heart — love  of  my  life — the  reason," 
he  breathed,"  is  you." 

1 '  My  dear,  my  dear,  it  is  greater  than  I ;  it  is  deeper, 
far  deeper  than  we.  Don't  you  know,  oh,  can't  you 
see,  that  it  is  because  you  are  the  Daysman?" 

THE  END. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  766  726    4 


